Phoenix Down: Out of the Ashes
by XxRoadKillxX
Summary: When a summoning goes horribly wrong, Harry finds himself flung into a world where magic is more free and confined than what he's used to. No matter what he does, trouble seems to follow. The sword's nice though.
1. Rebel Against Authority

**AN:** Here it is! The new PD! A few notes:

This story is going to be a bit darker than its previous incarnation. Also, instead of diverting from the cannon at the end of book five like the old one, it starts about halfway through the fourth book, despite this story taking place at the end of OotP. Back story will be explained when it pertains, but I'll probably write a prequel (grand thoughts for a procrastinator I know). The past isn't pertinent to understanding this story, might resolve some curiosity. I was also thinking of putting the backstory as small bits at the beginning of chapters, what say you; the readers? Chapters or Story unto Itself?

The chapter jumps a bit present to past and such, but I'm sure y'all are intelligent enough to figure out what's the past and what's the present.

Again, it was reviews that let me know I had royally screwed up the last PD, so they are much appreciated.

* * *

A dinner party. How difficult was a simple formal gathering?

Apparently very.

Besides all the formal wear, twelve different eating utensils—Draco had kindly informed him that most were for show and the food they were going to eat tonight would only use six or eight of them—and the various social dances, an evening could be very complicated. The fact that he had been on edge all night didn't help any, and as the fourth course came in, Harry decided that a drink was in order. He hadn't been raised in this environment as most of the others in their group had. A few of the purebloods and halfbloods who had been raised in the different political and social dances were teaching the muggleborns.

Harry vaguely wished he was in that group.

He waited for the House Elves to pour this course's accompanying wine, before delicately handling the silver goblet. It looked like spun glass, and was indeed see-through in parts. Draco and Hermione had remarked on how they had gotten moon crystal that thin without breaking it, but Harry had just remarked that they'd been pretty. He'd received dark looks for his tact.

As the goblet touched his lips, Harry choked on what little wine he'd sipped as his scar exploded in pain and dark shapes materialized with sharp cracks while a familiar tugging grabbed him behind his navel and took him to Merlin knew where.

He stumbled in the grass and landed hard on a sharp rock when the portkey finally let him go, his body following through with the jerking motion that the magic of the portkey had paralyzed, and the goblet went flying.

Harry's breathing was coming in fast pants as he tried to get enough air hiding behind a deadfall. Life really just wasn't fair sometimes, but when Harry thought about it, when had Life ever been fair to him? She certainly saw that the Dursley's gave him barely enough to get by.

But he was digressing.

Currently in the middle of who knew where, though, by a cursory glance at a flower during the obligatory monologue, Voldemort had brought him somewhere in Wales. The sky was dark, the dark clouds that had been on the horizon were now overhead, and the wind had the distinct flavour of a storm.

"Are you ready Harry?"

Merlin, he hated this man.

"I don't really have a choice in the matter," Harry replied, phoenix feather wand already in his hand.

Voldemort laughed, lightning struck, and the duel was on.

The sky was overcast and the winds were howling, disturbing the already messy hair of The Boy Who Lived. Said child was bloody and bruised and quite alone. But, since he had inadvertently grabbed that portkey—and who would think their own goblet in a seemingly friendly environment meant him harm?—he didn't know if it would be possible to easily return. It also didn't help that he had thrown the cup hard in a random direction.

Charms, curses, and all manner of spells flew through the air in differing shades of coloured light. Each wizard was careful not to let their wands accidentally line up, remembering what had happened the last time that had happened.

Violent spell after violent spell hissed and crackled through the air as thunder roared in the sky. Harry dodged as many spells as he could, while shielding and taking the offensive where it was available. Yes, the prophecy said that he had to defeat the Dark Lord, but there was only so much a fifteen year-old could do. The heavy presence in the air wasn't helping, but he ignored it as he fired a brilliant sickly yellow curse.

His opponent's fluent cursing had a grim smile gracing Harry's face.

"There's nothing you can do to stop me, Harry," the hissed words of Voldemort taunted above the howling winds.

"I've done it before, Voldemort," Harry yelled back, throwing another nasty curse in the Dark Lord's direction. Cursing let Harry know it had at least grazed the man. Hitting him twice would just be pure luck, and he'd like to save some of that for as long as he could.

The wind howled furiously, and for a moment, Harry thought that Voldemort had something to do with it, but it was just the viciousness of the approaching storm. He heard the soft musical tink of the portkey somewhere, and he dearly wished it was with him, but Harry knew that the Dark Lord would hear an accio spell despite the wind and lightning and steal the goblet away from him.

"Harry! Where are you dear boy?"

Harry grimaced. A person like Voldemort should never pitch their voice in that timbre ever. The pleading sing-song was more like the sound of an angry cat, and Harry realized that, as the prophecy said, Voldemort truly didn't understand Love.

The hair on his arms stood up, and the air suddenly became heavy. Throwing himself from his hiding place to behind another large rock and thus, slightly underground, Voldemort was the one closest to the tree was lightning struck; jumping from the bole to the man himself. Harry snickered through the booming thunder, his voice inordinately loud in his ears; his close proximity rendering him temporarily deaf.

Voldemort was rather crispy.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to stand under trees during storms?" Harry chided when the spots stopped dancing in his vision. His ears were ringing something aweawful. "My Aunt always told my cousin."

Voldemort screamed and shot various curses at him in quick succession. Harry valiantly deflected or countered most of them, though a sickly greenish purple one that grazed his hand—he felt the heat of its passing—broke it he was sure. He couldn't feel it anymore.

The tinkling was louder, and so was the roar of the oncoming storm; one of those rains where when the clouds opened up, you were instantly wet.

Ducking underneath shelter once more, Harry heard the tinkling and fervently looked for it as Voldemort looked for him.

"Can't fight me like a real wizard, Harry?" Voldemort taunted.

_I'm fifteen, still a kid in the wizard and muggle worlds, _Harry thought_, and you want me to fight like an adult when you yourself act like a spoiled child denied his favourite toy?_ The tinkling sounded with another gust and green eyes darted about.

"Fine. If you won't come out, I'll _make_ you come out."

Harry didn't like the sound of that. A guttural language, similar to Latin but ugly in its cadence and harsh in its consonants, lilted through the air making a sense of danger rise. This time, the hair on Harry's arms stood on end for a different reason. Yes, Voldemort was a dark wizard, but this was Dark. This was something forgotten on purpose; a summoning or a banishing of something that shouldn't have been in the first place.

And Voldemort was using it against him.

A flash of delicate silver caught his eye, and surging out of hiding, Harry made a mad dash for it. He ignored the aches and pains from bruises and spell damage, the strange feeling in his stomach going ignored. He ignored his numb hand and the burning in his forehead as Voldemort's emotions became stronger as he finished doing whatever he was doing. If Voldemort saw him, he was too caught up in his chant and more than half through which compelled him to finish.

Which happened to be as Harry's hand clutched the delicate silver wine goblet.

He disappeared in a shout of pain and a roar of thunder.

* * *

The transportation was nothing like regular travel by portkey. Instead of the gentle but firm tugging behind his navel, he felt as if a clawed hand had grabbed him by his spine between his ribs and his pelvis and dragged him through cold liquid that burned like fire. A roar of a great cat rang through his mind and he screamed as the fire burned him in ways that normal fire couldn't. He could never remember doing accidental magic other than fixing that horrid haircut his Aunt had given him, but Harry supposed this must be what it feels like.

Now it felt like his magic had a mind of its own.

Laughing and screaming, he felt his magic swirl through him and about him, doing whatever it pleased. Harry screamed again as it _flexed_ and something in him changed to accommodate it.

That was when he choked on something that was cold as ice and burned like fire while being thicker than water. Wondering what the colours were that swirled around him, since portkey travel smeared the colours of the countryside together into—sometimes—a pretty swirl or a nauseating smear, Harry wanted to open his eyes. The need was so strong it felt like compulsion.

_Don't open your eyes!_

Why shouldn't he?

But Harry's eyes were already opened and looked into Green. It deserved the capital, the distinction of a noun from an adjective. It was _alive_; what had his magic singing and sighing and dancing. Harry first thought it was water, but water had pull and gravity to it that the Green didn't, so then it appeared as fire. But fire couldn't twist and dance and loop, so the Green then appeared as air. Bubbles and sparks and foam—all brilliant verdant hues—danced along with the current that was there one minute, different the next heartbeat, then gone in a breath.

Harry was suddenly aware of a pair of eyes that could have been his mother's; but the emotions in them were all wrong he thought. Everything about them was green—knowledge and power, sadness and grief, loss and love-love for everything those eyes—was the Green, and much too cold and burning at the same time that his body didn't know what to do. The scent of flowers enveloped him as the eyes turned soft. Harry had the distinct impression that they belonged to a girl.

_Firefly was right about you._

What? The scent changed, and Harry felt content amidst the joy that was pain and agony.

_That shouldn't be there._

Harry was confused when her eyes turned concerned and determined.

_Close your eyes._

Harry gladly did so, as phoenix song sang him to a state like sleep. An explosion of pain that felt like claws of icy heat raked through his mind. The pain, worse than anything he had ever experience, robbed him even of his voice to release it. The claws came again and again, his magic screaming and his nerves melted out of existence, before a defeated wail made its way through the haze of pain in Harry's mind and a pressure he wasn't even aware of was gone. An apologetic and triumphant coo barely soothed his torn mind before the scent of flowers accompanied him into oblivion.

* * *

A motorcycle roared across the plains, speed unmatched by anything in the vicinity, although the vladkoros tried. Their hissing and harsh calling was drown out by a roll of thunder. Blue eyes glanced over a shoulder to see angry grey clouds, and that was why he was flying across terrain he'd usually bypass due to the monster population.

A storm had come out of nowhere. When Cloud had felt the air pressure subtly change, he'd gotten a call from Nanaki.

_"Cloud." The Gi's voice was calm as it always was, but there was an underlying tension in it._

_"Nanaki." The exSoldier was curious. Almost nothing ruffled his companion's calm and amicable attitude._

_"There's a storm headed your way," the guardian beast informed him. "It's quite violent. Even the likes of you and me would need shelter." That their enhancements came from experiments was left unsaid._

_Cloud had just finished breakfast and was a fast ride and a few hours from any civilization of any kind, past or present._

_"The radio out of Fort Condor predicted clear skies and sunshine with a high of 30 and a low of 26," Cloud said, somewhat amused._

_Nanaki was quiet for a moment, before softly saying, "The Lifestream is…playing…for lack of a better word, and it's headed your way. Satellites have already confirmed a level 4 hurricane and a tropical storm off the coast of Junon and Mideel."_

_Cloud swore before throwing his gear together. He was a day out of Fort Condor, and too many from the Mines to shelter there—not to mention the monsters who'd also want to shelter there—and a few days out of Junon where the hurricane was supposedly going to hit._

_"Thanks Red," Cloud replied before shutting his PHS and stowing his gear in Fenrir._

He had pushed through the night, pushing Fenrir as hard as he dared, and he was of the latitude of Junon, when he broke for breakfast again. The sky to the east was such a dark grey it was more black than anything. The green tinge to the clouds in places as lightning flashed did nothing to put anyone at ease.

Wolfing down the remnants of a rabbit, Cloud kicked the stand up on his bike and was about to start it when a gust of wind had all the hair standing up on his arms. Diving to the ground, lightning struck a nearby bush, illuminating the world an eerie green, the thunder incredible to his enhanced hearing.

His enhancements, however, picked up the slight edge of human to the wild roar of thunder.

Before he knew what he was doing, Cloud found himself standing over the struck bush, mind uncomprehending and ears ringing. Where there should have been nothing but a charred hole in the ground, some pieces of the bush remained among the charred mess and were, incredibly, in bloom; delicate white blossoms scenting the ozone laden air. A boy, rather beat up and scrawny, was lying among the wrecked foliage.

Cloud toed him with his boot, then felt utterly ridiculous. He smelled of mako, wild and living things, oddly enough, and something he couldn't quite place, but it felt familiar. He went to pick the boy up, and the clatter of a scabbard made him freeze. Eyeing the weapon carefully, he wrapped it in the boy's cloak before carrying them both back to Fenrir, something in him revolted at the thought of touching the blade. The storm was still coming and he needed shelter, now more so than before.

Carefully situating himself and his companion on his motorcycle, Cloud revved the beast to life and peeled out to the nearby mountains. There was no way he would find shelter before the storm hit, so he'd have to make one himself.

* * *

Death Eaters.

Draco snarled next to her, but Hermione thought it more due to lack of tact and the fact they weren't invited than that they were the enemy. The House Elves squeaked in fright and disappeared with vivid pops as their nice dinner erupted into a free for all. Spells—curses, charms and hexes—flew through the air, as did a few animals. Everyone knew everyone that was going to attend; safety precautions in case something like this happened. She politely ignored a Death Eater being eviscerated by a hyena like creature to fight another Death Eater.

The eerie laughter from the creature was a chilling counterpoint to the Death Eater's scream as Hermione beat her; bound and half transfigured her to the floor and a chair leg.

"Harry!" She called. "We got—"

Her gaze flitted about the dining hall, going from group to group seeing everyone: Draco, Millicent, Pansy, Zacharias, Ron, Luna, Neville and various others. Draco looked to be doing the same.

"Where's Harry?" he asked.

Hermione looked again, everywhere, just to be sure.

"His goblet is missing," Zacharias pointed out.

Ron swore and Draco muttered a spell. The results had them all frowning.

"Portkey," Blaise, who had finally returned to his human form replied. "How deviant."

Panic was trying to edge its way through her speeding rational thoughts. "I suppose we should call in the Aurors."

"What do we tell them about Harry?" Ron panicked.

"Nothing." Everyone looked at the blond pureblood scion. Hermione's first thought was that it was a stupid idea and they should have everyone out now looking for Harry, but wheels started turning in her head. Draco raised a delicate eyebrow, as if he were better then everyone in the room or maybe he could read her thoughts. No one did know what the abilities of the Malfoy line. "If Harry's alive and well, he'll return to us. Otherwise, we'll just have to have faith that he'll get in touch with us if he can't."

"I put the call to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Neville replied.

"How thoughtful of you," was Luna's dreamy reply. "The stones say the fireplace was impressed with your thoughtfulness with its use."

Everyone was used to Luna by now, seeming to believe the girl spoke in a kind of metaphor.

"Thank you, Luna."

Hermione and Draco eyed everyone in the room. "Remember, Harry wasn't here. If what we started dies now, everything will be a waste."

Mumbled assurances came from everyone, and a few of the Gryffindors vehemently swore they would betray nothing.

"Good thing we weren't using Aten ar-Heq-t," Parvati replied as she made a random Death Eater start to laugh uncontrollably. "The wards would either have been ruined or they would have made such a mess that we'd have to explain…"

Murmurs of agreement ran about the room as various others settled down to either play exploding snap or likewise torture Death Eaters.

All of them were disgusted when hours later Tonks and various other Aurors arrived on the scene to see kids in various dress robes, broken dinner ware and furniture, and various Death Eaters in various states of health. The youths had long gotten tired of jinxing and charming their captives.

"Some law enforcement you are," Ron blurted before he could help it.

Hermione shot him a look and sharply elbowed him.

That seemed to put life back into the Aurors. Some Aurors asked if anyone needed to go to St. Mungo's or the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. Apparently, a handful of inter-House students at dinner couldn't stand up to a few Death Eaters. The Aurors retrieved the ones that they had managed to capture, transfiguring them back to fully human if it was needed or taking bits of the wall if they couldn't, while taking note of those that were dead and their affiliations.

"This is ridiculous," Hermione groused to Draco.

"I agree."

The teens didn't give away their startlement as Tonks plopped down beside them. Her orange hair and hazel eyes would do a Weasley proud. Hermione noted that she didn't just look tired—those of them that had been at dinner were tired—Tonks looked exhausted. "Had reports of someone practicing the Forgotten—" Hermione took note of Draco stilling "—so we had to see to that before anything. Ended up being a bunch of Inner Circle Death Eaters protecting who we think was You Know Who doing the magic." She eyed Draco. "You'll have to have a good alibi, Malfoy, as I know my superiors won't care that you're minor-ish. You're sixteen and close enough for them since your father was seen there."

"He's been here all night," Hermione said. "Anyone here can vouch for him."

Tonks only nodded. "That's good."

The Aurors were there for only a short time after that before they took all the Death Eaters, dead and alive, and apparated out. Everything was quiet, most present probably wondering what they were going to do, and the House Elves were probably just getting over their fright. Someone sighed, and that seemed to be the key they needed to go on.

"To the Bat Cave!"

The muggleborns and halfbloods snickered, the purebloods still didn't get the joke, but that got everyone moving. The younger ones took off chasing each other through the halls to their designated passages while the rest walked. Oh, if the adults could see them now…

* * *

_Harry had wanted to be more involved in the war effort._

_They had told him he was too young._

_He had retorted with him being the one to defeat Voldemort._

_They had flinched at the name, but they has shushed him and told him to go find his friends._

_Harry had left the room, hearing someone wistfully say they wished Dumbledore would talk some sense into him. Harry thought darkly_, I wish Dumbledore would just _talk_ to me.

_His comments and stances on various topics had, over the years, finally broken through to more people than just students in his House. Some of the Slytherins realized that they _could_ choose their own destiny and not join the Death Eaters. Draco had headed that small delegation. It had helped that they had been getting along for the last half a school year as well. When a Death Eater disguised as your teacher transfigures you into a ferret and practically beats you…it changes your outlook on your chosen—or not so chosen—profession after school._

_Hufflepuff had come, headed by Zacharias Smith. Ravenclaw had come headed by Luna and Padma Patil. Harry and his group of Gryffindors decided that they couldn't meet in deserted classrooms anymore, and through various means and grapevines, spread the word that the Room of Requirement was where they'd meet until they found a suitable place._

_Harry set up younger students with older students, people good at offence with those good at defense, those good with plants and animals, the lists went on. Hermione headed a group where those who were halfblood or muggleborn integrated magic and muggle technology as best they could. Library books were checked out and thoroughly used. Those talented in potions brewed in the lab the Room provided them, and Harry absently wondered if it pulled its ingredients stores from Snape's own stores or from elsewhere._

_Everyone knew that war was coming and they'd have to participate in it, but they'd be dammed if they weren't ready when it came._

_Eventually, however, Easter break was coming, and most students didn't want to quit their training, and though Harry knew that the Chamber of Secrets could be used to house them—he had explored it and found other rooms than the main chamber that looked habitable one that sported a hot spring. Although it was rather cozy, especially since the House Elves started cleaning it and furnishing it since he roamed it regularly, he didn't think the majority of his group would appreciate living here. Although it would be nice to stick one on Dumbledore since he was the only one who could open and close the Chamber._

_Harry eventually turned to Sirius. The man was more bitter than carefree and smiles, wanted nothing more than to run the streets of London chasing Death Eaters or just peeing on trees in his animagus form and looking up girl's skirts. Harry just told him he and his friends needed a place to stay, and he didn't think Grimmauld Place would work since Dumbledore was using it._

_He hadn't expected Sirius to buy him a house with the strictest blood wards in the middle of the foothills of the Southern Uplands in the Dumfries and Galloway Region of Southern Scotland. He even had everyone on the list Harry had given him added to the wards and portkeys. When the spring hols came around, everyone in what they called The Resistance—a few of the Muggleborns had wanted to call it the Rebellion, but the halfbloods told them that too many pop culture references was a bad thing for the purebloods—Sirius showed up at Hogwarts with portkeys and apparition points for those that knew how, and they all disappeared._

_"Welcome to Aten ar-Heq-t," Sirius proclaimed._

_"Egyptian?" someone inquired. Another whistled in appreciation. _

_"It's rare that there are any houses like this left in Britain," Hermione effervescently proclaimed. "Most of the Goblins demanded them for their Curse Breakers."_

_"…I might have talked to someone who knew someone and had a cousin that did something for them," Sirius said without saying anything. "That and I used Harry's name."_

_Harry shot his godfather a dark look, but Draco just patted his cousin on the back and told him he did well before heading towards the front door._

_As the rest of the Resistance followed, Harry hung back with Sirius. "You're welcome here anytime you want, Sirius. Don't let Dumbledore cage you like he does me."_

_Relieved and thankful grey eyes looked into green before the two followed the rest to explore the house._

* * *

Cloud glanced sharply at the youth as he cried out in his sleep. Swearing, Cloud threw his sword and cleaning cloth aside and hurried to the youth. His dark hair was matted to his face with sweat as he thrashed in a fever amidst the blankets. This was the third time he had seized like this, and Cloud desperately hoped this wasn't a case of Mako poisoning. He took extra care to restrain the kid's left hand. He had already set it and splinted it, but with all the violent movement, Cloud didn't want him to upset the set and break the splint. He wished the materia had fixed it, but when he had tried to Heal it, the magic surrounded the injury before sloughing off and puddling on the ground where it soaked into the dirt floor. Surprised, Cloud had stared at the spot a moment before figuring if his hand had been like that, the rest of him probably had injuries as well. Removing filthy mako—although it wasn't the processed kind he was used to—and blood stained clothes, Cloud found other bruises and injuries and treated them as they required.

Cloud sighed as he was pulled from his thoughts by his PHS ringing, the flinty pop song identifying it as Tifa. Figuring he had nothing better to do, he dug it out of his pocket and flipped it open. Besides, he'd ignored Tifa's last call and with the weather, she'd surely keep calling him until he answered.

That and her ringtone annoyed the fuck out of him.

"Yeah?"

"Cloud!" Tifa's voice proclaimed. "You're in shelter right? I know you."

She did.

"I'm in the middle of nowhere—" and that's as far as he got before Tifa started barraging him with questions. That was unlike her, because she _did_ know him, and she knew that he wasn't that daft or stupid as to weather the infrequent hurricanes out in the open.

"Is everything all right there?" Cloud broke into her tirade.

"I can't find Jayden," the barmaid said. "Denzel looked for him for a bit, but then the wind got to bad and he had to come in."

"The storm has landed here, and has been going for a few hours," Cloud informed her. "The Radio out of Junon thinks they're almost at the eye of the storm, so it should be hitting Edge soon."

"But you're all right?" Tifa asked.

"I made a cave for myself and my bike." Cloud didn't feel like telling her about the kid until he was sure he was going to live or not.

"Don't' push it," Tifa advised him. "Come back when it's safe to do so. I'll tell the kids you're holed up somewhere and fine."

"Fine." And he hung up.

The kid gave one final jerk before stilling and letting out a long moan.

Cloud watched his face, eyes fluttering madly. What surprised him was that the kid's lashes were fluttering open, and Cloud had to school his face not to react to eyes that could have been Aeris'.

"Where am I?" the kid asked with a strange accent.

"A cave between Junon and the Mythril Mines," Cloud replied. No need to tell the kid he'd made it. He wanted the kid to see him as normal for as long as possible.

"Oh." He was quiet a moment. "Why do I have a headache?"

"You have a fever," Cloud replied. "I don't know if you're just sick or if you have Mako poisoning."

"Potion will fix it," the kid said. "Magic'll care for whatever."

Because that made perfect sense.

Cloud shrugged and against his better judgment and the Zack voice that still occasionally pointed inane crap out in his head, Cloud fetched a potion and gave it to the kid. He uncapped it and downed it with the ease of one used to downing potions and elixirs, which made Cloud frown. He had to be, what, thirteen or fourteen?

"What's your name?" Cloud finally got around to asking.

"Harry Potter," the green eyed kid replied. "Yours?"

"Cloud Strife."

"Strife," Harry replied. The way he said it, with his accent, made Cloud think that once upon a time, his family had had a reason to be called Strife. "Wonder what Dumbledore or Voldemort would think with a last name like that."

Then he giggled.

Shit.

"My eyes hurt."

Cloud dug through a bag wondering if he had an elixir or something to slow what he was sure was magic exhaustion or poisoning of some kind. He ignored the scratches and the rustle of fabric as he found one of the delicate silver bottles. He turned back around and didn't expect the large black…something…that hissed at him with Harry's brilliant green eyes.

Cloud's eyes narrowed, glowing softly blue as they were and illuminating the cave enough to see by—he hadn't been able to get any wood before it started to rain—carefully watched the creature. It was feline, that much he could tell, but was as dark as Rufus' old Guard Hound. He watched as it melted into a smaller, lighter cat with large squarish spots, before it morphed into Harry once more.

Green eyes blinked. "Ow," was all Harry said before he slumped back into his nest of blankets and unconsciousness.

* * *

"Miss Hermy-ninny?"

Hermione flinched and Draco choked on his drink. Ron was out delegating with various others else wise he'd have probably nicked Colin's camera to cherish Draco's expression for life.

Before Harry stole it back that is.

"Hermy-ninny, ma'am?"

Why did it have to be Shiloh-Faley?

"You better answer the elf," Draco said, amusement dripping in his tone.

"Yes?"

"Miss Hermy-ninny!" the elf began. "Shiloh-Faley was washing the dishes on the table from the white faced black cloaks interrupted dinner time. I gotstead to Mister Great Harry Potter's place, but his plate wouldn't clean!"

Wouldn't clean?

"What do you mean, Shiloh-Faley?"

The House Elf produced a seemingly white plate, but when she tipped it so it faced up, ready to hold food, there was indeed something on it. Hermione gently took it from the elf's hands and examined the delicate purple design. A design that ended up being script.

"Thank you, Shiloh-Faley," Hermione told the elf. "I'll take care of this."

"You is most gracious, Miss Hermy-ninny!" And the elf disappeared with a soft pop.

"Hermy-ninny?" Draco inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Harry introduced the elf to us when we were having a party, and Seamus introduced the lot of us, except he had been drinking something stronger than the butter beer and spirits we were, and my name came out like that," Hermione explained. "You should hear what she calls Neville and Luna."

"I'm glad I wasn't there for that," Draco replied as he sipped his tea. The two of them had been going over plans for a study session to make sure their homework was getting done around their training and private studying.

"We need everyone back to Aten ar-Heq-t now."

Draco looked up at Hermione from the parchment he'd been examining. She tipped the plate so he could read it.

"Well damn."

* * *

_posted 17June2010; edit 13September2010_


	2. ÆSC FÁEL

_"Potter."_

_Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned around to see Draco Malfoy not with his usually entourage. Instead, Millicent and Pansy were at his shoulders and looking decidedly twitchy. Taking in the odd situation, and Malfoy's odd formality, Harry inclined his head._

_"Malfoy. What can I do for you?"_

_Ron opened his mouth as if to insult the Malfoy heir or the other Slytherins, but Hermione gave him a sharp kick in the shins. Malfoy looked at them, tense as if he wanted to insult them, but thought better of it and turned his attention back to Harry._

_"A few of us in Slytherin think that you have a chance at defeating the Dark Lord," the blond came out and said, blunt and to the point. Rather unSlytherin-like, Harry thought, when they favoured the innuendo and hinting and metaphors their social dances depended on. "We feel that backing you would be our best choice."_

_Harry frowned. "Wont' that get you guys in trouble? I don't want you all getting hurt for supporting me."_

_The girls exchanged a look and Malfoy actually smiled. "You leave that to us, Potter. Will you grant us amnesty and protection?"_

_Harry looked at Malfoy; really looked. He could see the signs of sleepless nights hidden either with Muggle makeup or glamours; he wasn't sure which. The fact that there were quite a few halfbloods and muggleborns in Slytherin in the early years led Harry to believe it might be cosmetics. Pansy and Millicent didn't look any better._

_"I'll do what I can," Harry replied. "Seventh floor, tomorrow night, the hallway with the heavy door—you'll know which."_

_Draco gave a nod of understanding. "Potter. Granger. Weasely," he said in parting before he turned in a dramatic swirl of robes and walked off towards the dungeons._

_Harry could feel the caution and surprise emanating off of Hermione, while Ron just seemed to be flabbergasted._

_"He was polite," Ron finally spluttered. "He didn't insult any of us."_

_Harry just smiled at Ron's antics and started counting. He bet a knut that Hermione would whack him or chide him to be quiet by the time he reached thirty-five._

* * *

It was the muggleborns who had come up with the idea of sending Hedwig out to find Harry. Figuring he was _somewhere_, and knowing that an owl could find anyone _anywhere_, which was somewhere, then wrote a quick note and gave it to the beautiful white owl.

"Find Harry," the first year Ravenclaws had told her.

She had hooted imperiously before launching herself into the air and soaring out the window. While she was out searching for her master, Hermione and various other intellectuals and the Ravenclaws set to book searching.

"You think it was aliens?" A Hufflepuff asked. The muggleborn was probably a first year, but the younger years in that House were on the small side, so he could very well be a second or third year.

Someone scoffed. One of the Ravenclaws, Henrietta Yewling, looked up from her book; blue eyes sharp. "There is little to prove aliens exist."

"But what about—"

"No," a Slytherin said. "Just no; we have to find Potter before we can prove…aliens..exist."

"Has anyone seen Ghost Hunters?"

There were a few 'Yeah's from the muggleborns, and a few 'what in Merlin's beard is that?' from the purebloods and a few halfbloods.

"You see, it's this show where muggles hunt ghosts and the supernatural," the kid went on to explain. And as he did, ideas formed and were stormed back and for the between the gathered students. Hermione apparated to her parents house to use the internet.

She had shopping to do.

* * *

Harry felt like crap. He could expound upon it, and wax poetic on his state of being, but it would circle round and boil down to him feeling like he was trampled by a hippogriff.

Crap.

The wizard tried to move, he was comfortable but stiff, but that sent a paroxysm of pain shooting throughout his body. If he had had the energy, he would have screamed; probably curled up in a ball. As it was, a tortured moan escaped him and his hand twitched.

"You're hurt. Don't move," Someone said. A part of him screamed that the voice wasn't in his list of recognized voices, another part didn't care as long as he got help. A third part just wished for the voice to put him out of his misery.

"Ugh, why do I hurt?" Harry tried to ask. It sounded to him like garbled grating moans. He winced and protested more when he was hoisted into a sitting position, a cup being pressed to his lips. Grimacing, he swallowed the liquid with little protest, and was surprised to find a cool, refreshing taste to otherwise plain water. The refreshing turned out to be a potion of some kind when a tingling sensation ran through his body, centering on his aches and pains and soothing the fiery pain to a constant ache that gave Harry the feeling that it'd wear off eventually.

Blinking owlishly, aware that his head still ached terribly, Harry looked around his surroundings.

There wasn't much to see.

He was in a cave, that much was obvious. There was, what he assumed was since he'd never been muggle camping, a small stove, a lantern, a huge motorcycle, a few blankets and sleeping bag. His gaze eventually came full circle to the person holding him. A goofy smile took up his face, and his head wobbled a bit as a rush of heat spread through his body. The person's expression, which was quite blank but managed to convey concern all the same, went from blank-concerned to blank-frowning.

It made him want to laugh.

"I knew I probably shouldn't have mixed a potion and an elixir," he muttered.

Harry hummed. "S'it going to kill me?"

Blue eyes, _very_ blue eyes, weighed whatever information it was he had about potions and elixirs before saying, "it shouldn't, but—"

"Hello, I'm Harry," Harry replied to the frown, ignoring whatever the man was going to say after what his mind translated as a 'no'. "Sorry about the manners! My head feels a bit muzzy."

"I'm Cloud, and I would be worried if you didn't feel 'muzzy' with the fever you have," the man, Cloud, replied. He wasn't too worried about the kid not remembering his name; although he had a high fever, it was less than it was earlier that day when he had woken up the first time. He wasn't sure if he should ask about the beasts that he had been; not too sure if that was rude for him or not.

"Hmmmm. Fever," Harry hummed. "That would explain a few things."

"Just relax and try to get some more sleep," Cloud suggested. The exSoldier watched as Harry hummed again and settled back down to promptly fall asleep. Cloud checked the various bandages that covered wounds that wouldn't heal by materia, before he himself settled down for some rest. Not that it would come, and not that Cloud really needed it; sleeping every night was more of a habit than a need. His taut body was racing with adrenaline and worry. The two of them had introduced themselves earlier, and it was clear that the boy—Harry—didn't remember any of it. His own body temperature was higher than normal, Cloud thought he remembered something of a resting body temperature of about forty degrees, but when he had checked the youth's forehead, it was quite warm to the touch.

Worrying indeed.

But what had him curious, a bit worried, and wary, was the boy's casual reference to magic, and the fact that he seemed to hold two beasts within him similar to Vincent. Only time could tell if the boy was truly dangerous. Cloud winced as lightning struck nearby, the roar of thunder deafening and made his ears ring. Knowing he wouldn't sleep tonight, he got up and settled himself near Harry to keep an eye on the boy.

* * *

Draco sneezed and his eyes watered. "Where in Merlin's beard did you _find_ that tome?" the pureblood demanded using one of Harry's favourite swears.

Hermione gave him a look. "The library," she said archly. "Really, I think I'm the only one that's even _entered_ the library here."

"Aten ar-Heq-t has a lot of interesting bits to it," Draco said, then he smirked. "The recent addition of a Quidditch Pitch by its last owner has most of us occupied."

"Quidditch isn't going to help us find Harry," Hermione acerbically replied.

What had gotten into her today? Draco wondered. He knew none of the purebloods in their movement called her a mudblood since she hexed the last one into Madam Pomfrey's kind care.

"Have the others gotten the computers and the rest moved to the Table Room?" Hermione asked.

"As far as I know they have," Draco responded. He eyed the ancient, dusty tome. "Would you like to take this there, or stay here?"

"Here is fine," the witch replied. "It's not like I have anything solid at the moment."

"Do tell," Draco obliged as he sat catty corner from Hermione. If he had sat across from her, the tome would have prevented them from seeing each other. "What have you in mind?"

"Well, you know the theory that magic is sentient?" Hermione began.

Draco nodded. Most purebloods accepted magic as a wild thing that graced their lives. It was the halfbloods and muggleborns that started polluting their history and society with their whims and fancies.

"There's also a theory that says that magic is in everything, everywhere; water, plants, animals, people. When we die, our magic returns to this sentient body of roaming magic."

"That," Draco stated with a confused and disgusted face, "is a convoluted idea."

"But the magical community in India believes in reincarnation, and there are instances of remembered past lives, that could, in theory anyway, support this idea," Hermione argued.

"How does this have anything to do with Harry?" Draco sighed.

"You remember the strange readings we got with the EMF the muggleborns were saying the Ghost Hunters used? The one that I bought and we tweaked for magic?" Hermione asked.

"Yes."

"That spawned this," Hermione simply put. "That amount of magic from a simple spell cross—a portkey and a Summons—isn't natural."

"Harry does have an inordinate amount of innate magic," Draco drawled.

"That might have something to do with it. Here," and she produced another dusty, albeit thankfully smaller tome, for Draco.

"_THE NATURE OF MAGIC_ by ÆSC FÁEL," Draco read. "What's with all the older books and tomes having every word capitalized?"

"Importance has always been my guess," Hermione absently replied as she flipped a page.

Sighing, Draco conjured a cloth and wiped the book off. Being as dignified as he was, he wasn't going to go into a sneezing fit again; Malfoy's did not have allergies.

_All things are connected with magic,_ Draco read. Puzzled, he checked the print date.

"The book is magical," a voice from the door said.

Draco and Hermione looked up from their reading to see Sirius leaning against the doorframe. His grey eyes took in his cousin's son. "It's magical," Sirius repeated.

"We know it's magical, but I couldn't read it," Hermione said as she looked up from her book. "The language was too arcane for me."

"That's because it's tied to the bloodline," Sirius nodded at the book.

"The Black bloodline?" Draco inquired. Sirius nodded. "But I'm not a Black."

"Technically, you're half Black as Narcissa was born a Black," Sirius pointed out. He ignored Draco's scowl as he entered the room and sat down. "And why are you reading that book in the first place?"

"You remember our dinner party?" Hermione asked.

"The one where you were teaching the muggleborns and halfbloods decorum and dancing?" Sirius replied.

"Yes," Hermione paused. They hadn't told anyone about Harry, not even Tonks, and no one had inquired thus far. It was the summer holidays after all, but still; if anyone had the right to know, it was Sirius Black. "Well, we didn't tell the Auror's the whole truth."

"What do you mean?" Sirius' grey eyes were puzzled.

"Harry was at the dinner," Draco finally said.

Sirius' sharp mind was getting the clues and putting them together. "No."

"Harry was transported somewhere by portkey," Draco told his cousin. "We're trying to find arts that'll help us find him."

"I think I know something that might help," Sirius replied. "I have to go." And with that, the man disappeared with a crack of apparition.

Hermione shot Draco an acid filled look. He demurely ignored it, as any pureblood worth their salt would, returning to his book blithely stating, "Someone had to tell the mut."

_Magic connects all things, is in everything, creates everything; thus, everything can be considered magical on some level…_

* * *

Sirius was absent from dinner at Aten ar-Heq-t, a rare novelty. He always made it a point to gather everyone that was currently at Aten ar-Heq-t together and catch up with them on what they were doing. His absence, a very adult presence despite his immature and childish nature, was a bit worrying at the break in tradition.

The cuisine, however, was aptly prepared by the house elves for the absence of an adult as requested by the kids; Seamus had Belgium waffles with more whipped cream than strawberries, Ron had chips, Hermione had two roast beef sandwiches with all the trimmings, Millicent had fried eggs and sauerkraut, Pansy had onion rings and a hamburger, Draco of all people had sausages in maple syrup. Justin had beans on toast with melted cheese and an egg. The oddities went on and on.

Sirius reappeared at dinner, in the middle of the dining room, startling everyone present. His cocky grin told them all they were lucky he hadn't appeared on the table itself.

"Well?" Draco inquired.

Sirius walked from one side of the room where he had apparated in, to the other end and the head of the table, to the left of which Draco sat. He promptly handed his cousin's son a book.

"THE ORIGIN OF MAGIC by MERLIN," Draco read.

"Holy shit," someone down the table swore. Hermione just assumed it was Justin.

"Is this where you've been?" Draco asked as he opened the cover and saw Latin scrawled across the pages.

"I knew there was a book in one of the Black vaults that you could use," Sirius began. "I just wasn't sure which one it was in. I finally found it in Belatrix's vault, although I'm pretty sure it was supposed to be in Regulus'."

"Thanks, Sirius," Hermione said into the silence. "I'm sure there'll be something in there that will help us find Harry."

Sirius smiled wanly before heading out of the room and calling for Dobby.

"That is a sad man," Someone down the table commented. Before anyone could say anything, there was a scrabbling on the window.

"What's an owl doing delivering at this time of night?" Ron asked as he shoved too much food to fit comfortably in his mouth.

A few people down the table shrugged, but it was Seamus that finally opened the window. A very sodden Hedwig flew into the dining room with a disgruntled hoot. Everyone's eyes lit up and hope whispered up and down the table. She flew to Draco at the head of the table and held out her foot. Once the message was gone she jumped over to Ron and started to eat off his plate.

"Oi!"

"_'Harry, If you're reading this, please let us know where you are and if you're okay. The Resistance'_," Draco read.

"Fuck," Someone swore.

* * *

He had cried last night; one of the reasons that he had left Aten ar-Heq-t. Draco, and Seamus, always seemed to know when he wanted solitude and sought him out to ask questions about something. Although, some of the ones Draco had pertained to something to do with pureblood culture nine times out of ten.

Still, Harry had been his responsibility; had been since Lily and James were killed. Wormtail had seen to him being in Azkaban for years, but as soon as he escaped, he had seen to Harry. Now, with him missing, it was like Sirius had failed his best friend. His charge had gone missing.

But Sirius soon realized that moping wouldn't bring Harry back, wouldn't assuage his friends and bring them peace in their disturbed afterlife. So he got out of his hiding spot in Grimmauld Place and went to Diagon Alley. Being the head of the Black family, he had access to any Black Vault. Sirius had gone through all of them, having a vague idea of the book he needed but knowing he'd know when he found what he needed. And he had, oh so many hours later he had found gold. The book by Fáel would help some, but the book by Merlin was used in its references, and would probably give a better picture to what the kids needed.

Knowing he should probably have never left Aten ar-Heq-t, Sirius supposed he should return. Glancing at the clock, he knew it'd be dinner time, so the animagus apparated into the dining room. He heard someone swear as he startled them. Draco and Hermione watched him as he thought one might watch a wild and unpredictable animal. Knowing him and his recent binge, Sirius thought he may very well look like one. He walked with all the etiquette his horrible mother had taught him, for all he really wanted to do was curl up in his room and sleep, maybe eat something eventually, to where Draco and Hermione sat next to Harry's empty chair and presented his cousin the book.

He spoke his piece, hardly hearing the words he said, answered a few questions then left in the silence he created. "Dobby."

"Yes Mister Sirius Master Sir?" the quirky house elf inquired. The elf's ridiculous attire helped to bring a true smile to his face. Who wore sock for mittens and five hats?

"Why are there socks on your hands?" Sirius finally asked.

"Dobby was cooking and handling hot things, Mister Sirius Sir," Dobby promptly replied. "I's not be wanting to burn myself."

"No that wouldn't do," Sirius agreed. "I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to bring me some soup in my rooms."

"Dobby can do that!" the elf enthusiastically replied. "Is the Master Sirius Sir be having a preference of any kind?"

Sirius was about to say no, he didn't have a preference, but the thinner the better, paused; a sudden childish stubborn streak flashing through him. "The kind witches give kids," Sirius replied, a smile growing on his sad face.

Dobby nodded enthusiastically before disappearing with a pop.

Sirius left his bathroom, toweling his hair some time later. He could never tell how long he was in the shower; something about the running water soothing his mind to mush. James would probably make some comment about being surprised it wasn't mush, and compare him to a skrewt or something. He looked up at a pop to see Dobby.

"Dobby thinks he got it right," the house elf worriedly said as he presented a tray with a covered bowl, bread, butter, some fruit, and tea. Sirius lifted the lid and smiled. He saw the letters floating about amidst the vegetables and pieces of beef.

"It's perfect Dobby," Sirius softly said. "Thank you so much."

"Dobby is glad to help anytime, Master Mister Sirius Sir!" the house elf babbled in delight before popping out.

Smiling for the first time in days, Sirius sat down to eat.

* * *

_…the wind even carries it; through the fields, forests and over the seas breathing life. It sustains life, creates life, takes life; carries emotions and feelings. Many have argued over it, but I feel it has a sentience all its own; for if we, as intelligent beings, are created or shaped by magic then surely it must act and feel as we do to create us so perfectly._

_It is aware in ways we can only assume; as I have never been dead before, I cannot speak in absolutes and say it is aware as we understand it. However, all my experiments and research points to the fact that magic _will_ react if provoked enough through blasé, thoughtless actions and wavering commitment to Light or Dark. When this happens, almost always retribution is dealt swiftly. Very few can assuage and talk the magic out of its course through pretty words._

_I have seen that happen only once in my many years._

_All this evidence leads to only once conclusion:_

_Magic is _alive…

-excerpt from THE ORIGIN OF MAGIC

* * *

_posted 13September2010; edited 21September2010  
_

_

* * *

_A/N: Gluten Free!

I figured y'all'd appreciate a quicker update regardless of the shorter chapter. I'm procrastinating finals that are due in 6 hours to post this that are grossly nowhere _near_ done to be neglecting them. I've had too much coffee, and not enough food to make my stomach happy.

THING TO NOTE: I realized I misspelled Aten ar-Heq-t in the first chapter (which is now fixed). The way I previously had it-Aten ar Heq-t-which is pronounced the same, meant revolting god/deity depending on which hieroglyphs one decided to use. English, American or British, doesn't lend to writing the accents and stresses, there is a dot below the A in _aten_, above the A in _ar_, and below the H in _heq-t_. I can't phonetically type it out, but I thought y'all should know.

My excuse for not posting this sooner:

I was youtubing.

You all that do that know _exactly_ what I mean.


	3. In and Out

Disclaimer: I do not take Latin, know Latin, or admit to being in anyway fluent to it. If I have made a mistake, please let me know so I can correct it.

* * *

"_Does he always do this?" Malfoy frantically asks as he held Harry's thrashing form as still as he could. Everyone in the North Wing of Aten ar-Heq-t was awaked by screams only to find Harry in the throes of a nightmare when they followed the echoes to the source. Hermione quickly directed everyone to doing something, Draco Malfoy moving to Harry's head without prompting; and Ron scowled as Hermione had taken it for granted that he'd do that. Sure, he was being nicer than normal, but the guy was still a git._

_A few minutes later, a younger kid came in leading a rather burly Hufflepuff that he thought was in their Care of Magical Creatures class ambled over and held down Harry's kicking, frantically moving legs._

_Ron didn't know they made Hufflepuff's like that._

_He grunted when a kick hit him in the shoulder. He repositioned his hands and put more of his weight behind his hold._

"_Only when Voldemort is feeling particularly vindictive," Hermione replied._

"_Or he's torturing someone," Ron threw in._

_The few people that were in the room turned melancholy and Malfoy outright frowned._

"_Potter, if you don't wake up fine I'm going to beat you myself," he indignantly, almost angrily, nearly shouted at the thrashing Gryffindor. "This is no way to start the Christmas Holidays!" _

_There was a purple bruise already on his shoulder where he had lost control and Harry had kicked him a good one. _

_Someone suggested someone should get Sirius as a bloodcurdling scream ripped itself from Harry's throat, but the few people that were in the room were too occupied with keeping Harry from hurting himself with a renewed bought of thrashing to really pay attention. The kid mentioned something about getting Neville and left when he got Hermione's absent nod of approval._

* * *

Cloud sighed as he held the thrashing body of one Harry Potter beneath him. For how small the boy was, he sure was strong. The exSoldier grunted as a foot connected sharply with his side. He had managed to fall asleep leaning against the wall some hours after he had settled Harry down, but the boy's thrashing—mainly a punch to his stomach—had awakened him. That had been well over an hour ago. Finally glad for a down time, the warrior leaned back against the cave wall. Feeling the rock still warm, he rubbed an itch on his back—too lazy to do it himself—before settling down and closing his eyes.

"Quinimmo!"

The sharp statement had Cloud snapping wide awake from his doze.

"Licentia mihi unus!" Harry cried in no language the exSoldier knew.

"Quis operor vos volo me?" Tears were leaking out of his closed eyes. He mumbled something too soft for even his Soldier hearing to pick up.

"Harry," Cloud called.

"Quinimmo!"

"Harry!"

Green eyes opened barely a slit before they closed again. It was enough time, however, for Cloud to see their brilliant glow.

"Fuck!"

What did you do miles away from civilization with someone who was mako poisoned? Last time he had been in this situation, Zack had been hauling his ass all over Gaia. Cloud sighed and scrubbed at his face with his hands. The kid's fever had come back with a vengeance; probably why the kid was babbling and thrashing. He had only had the chance to check after Harry's seizure had stopped.

"EGO animadverto vos."

Cloud looked up sharply at the statement. He didn't know what it meant, but it was said with such reverence and hope that Cloud wondered if he was _actually_ talking with something. He mumbled more things, for quite a while, before another unintelligibly understandable sentence was spoken.

"Quare mihi?" His voice was pleading now, and so heartbreaking. "Commodo?" A lengthy pause. "Commodo?" he repeated. "Commodo planto Viridis discedo."

Cloud sighed and resigned himself to the babbling. At least it wasn't those deranged pop songs Tifa liked. She played them much too loud in Cloud's opinion.

Besides, the lilting words were rather musical in their own sense.

* * *

Harry found himself drowning in Green. He shrieked and fought it as it searched and sifted through his person; searching and sifting and destroying only Merlin knew what.

"Stop!" Harry cried. There was a rumbling of dissatisfaction before pain tore itself through his mind. Harry cried out, thrashing in the Green. Turbulence and bubbles danced and drifted away from him. How he wished those kind green eyes were back. A particularly painful jab and him screaming and wincing.

"Leave me alone!"

A shockwave of magic left his person and the Green slid away, content with whatever it had done for the time being.

"Why do you want me?" He called into the Green. There was a rumble, more the feeling of a base beat than actual force. Then again, Harry doubted there was anything physical where he was at the moment. Just when he thought he'd have peace and quiet, the Green struck; ripping into his mind worse than Snape's Legilimens. Claws and teeth tore and ripped things that never should have been touched to begin with, and Harry fought violently with his will and magic to have them not rearranged to the Green's liking.

When he thought that he couldn't take the Green anymore, a soft scent reached his senses; flowers, the earth after it rained.

Living things.

He cautiously opened his eyes, expecting to see nothing but the swirling green and foam, but there was a shape amidst its dance.

"I see you," Harry called out. He didn't think it ended up being more than a whisper at best, but suddenly the dark spots that he thought had been eyes gained detail; the green eyes from before. He lost all strength and started to fall…

Arms caught him.

"Oh Harry," a distinctly feminine voice cooed.

"Why me?" Harry finally asked. "It always seems to be me."

"You're destined for great things," the girl told him, petting his hair. It felt nice, so soothing…

"Please?" Harry croaked after a while.

"Please what?" the girl asked giving the Gryffindor the distinct impression of a confused expression and tilted head.

"Please," Harry continued, his strength fading fast. Sheer stubborn will kept him going at this point. "Please make the Green go away."

He could _taste_ the sadsorryforgiveme rolling off the girl holding him up. "The…Green…isn't my battle to fight," she finally told him. "You're in the Lifestream, Harry."

For some reason, that didn't sound good.

"This is where the souls of the Planet come to rest after their lives are lived. You, Storm Child, need to choose whether to live or perish as all weather must."

"I don't want to stay in the Green," Harry whigned. "It's mean."

Laughter bubbled up about him and sounded like happiness personified as the girl laughed. "I think you'll make it," she finally said after her laughter died down. "You're too stubborn to submit and the Green can't find much else to fix in you."

"Fix?" Harry breathed. Merlin, he was so tired…

"You had darkness leaching off of you."

"Hmmm."

And Harry was asleep.

He floated for a while in the Green; verdant hues swimming and playing with his person. He didn't have to worry about grades, about Voldemort or Death Eaters, about him being a danger to his friends. Harry could do whatever he pleased.

Harry was free.

* * *

Cloud was stirring a pot of stew as calm pervaded the outside of the cave. The exSoldier had considered tying Harry to his bike and booking it back to Edge, but he wasn't sure how long the eye of the storm would last. The second half of storms were always more dangerous than the first half; they learned that in primary school with thunder snows back in Nibelheim. Glancing at his stew, then at the mouth of the cave, he stood up, dusted off his knees, and went to the mouth of the cave to see what the sky was up to.

He was surprisingly unsurprised at the blue sky and fluffy clouds that passed on a rather pleasant breeze. Cloud had no doubt that whatever kids were in the area would be outside jumping in puddles. His gaze followed the trail of clouds and revealed a black, angry horizon. The exSoldier was astonished at the amount of lightning shooting through and about the stormy clouds. Sighing, he left the cave to see about fixing something to cover the entrance. The second half of the storm promised to be more vicious than the first.

Eyeing a tree nearby and some large boulders, Cloud went to work.

Hours later and a covering for the mouth of the cave, Cloud ran into shelter just as the skies opened up and a deluge was rent loose. Shaking out his hair, the exSoldier shook out his gloves before wringing them out for good measure and placing them on a rock near the fire.

He glanced at Harry, the boy still sleeping as he had been earlier. Cloud narrowed his eyes and examined him a second time. Harry wasn't as still as he had been before.

"Perhaps he's coming out of it," Cloud softly murmured as he ladled stew into a bowl and began to eat.

As Cloud was wondering what he could do with what was left over, Harry moaned and rolled over, startling the blond something awful. After realizing he was in a fighting stance, Cloud relaxed and made his way over to his sick companion.

Cloud gently rolled Harry over, and was surprised to find Harry's eyes open. Open was probably a stretch but they weren't closed anymore. The boy blinked lazily, and squinted upon opening his eyes again. He muttered something and winced.

"Harry?" Cloud asked gently. "You all right?"

"It's too bright," Harry finally managed. As it was, Cloud knew the only reason he heard the boy was because of his enhancements. And it really wasn't that bright at all in the cave.

However, the fire was pretty close to the boy.

Cloud didn't really need it, and he supposed that if Harry did get cold he could sit under the blankets and warm him up, so the exSoldier went and grabbed the wet dirt he'd shoved in a bucket and dumped it on the fire.

It hissed angrily as it sputtered and died. Cloud heard Harry sigh in relief.

"Thanks," he rasped out. Cloud watched as he licked dry lips before asking if the storm was over yet.

"The eye just finished passing, so the second half should be about halfway done," Cloud murmured. He'd have to tell Tifa to be quiet and set Harry up in his own room; it was the furthest away from the hustle and bustle of the bar. Watching Harry try and settle without any real success, Cloud wondered if he needed to eat or sit or something.

"You hungry?" the exSoldier finally asked. "I have some leftover stew from dinner."

Harry thought about it for a bit before deciding his stomach was settled enough to eat. "I suppose I'll have a little."

Cloud nodded while spooning some into his dish and passing it over to Harry who, when he smelled it, realized how famished he truly was.

He inhaled it, probably a bit too fast.

His stomach promptly rebelled and it all came back up.

"Oh gross," Harry complained as his stomach clenched in agitation. Another bowl was handed to him with the instructions to eat it more slowly and a chastising look from Cloud. As he went for a bite, he noticed less meat and fibrous vegetables in this bowl, and more potatoes.

Slowly chewing, Harry realized Cloud's suggestion—really common sense he should have known to begin with—made for a calmer reception of his food.

"So what do you do?" Harry asked.

"Come again?"

"What do you do?" Harry repeated. "You're an adult, you have to have a job."

"I'm a delivery boy," Cloud finally replied. He gave Harry an odd look before asking, "And you?"

Harry couldn't know that his eyes darkened and glowed fiercely as he replied. "I'm supposed to kill someone," before he turned his attention back to his food.

Cloud, taken aback by the hostile attitude, asked, "What about your parents?"

"He killed them," Was all Harry said.

Cloud got the distinct feeling Harry didn't want to talk about it anymore.

They sat in what silence they had, the storm raging outside vicious and roaring with its thunder and lightning. Several loud claps of thunder and nearby lightning strikes had Harry wincing and hiding under his blankets from the noise.

"Why is it so loud?" He whinged. Cloud had come over and gathered Harry close, vaguely remembering someone else doing it to him; something about a heartbeat and noise pollution. He laid Harry's head on his chest so the youth could hear his heartbeat while his other hand covered his exposed hear.

Harry sighed before going limp, fast asleep.

"I see ya found yerself another one."

Cloud spun around with a piece of his sword at the ready, setting Harry down and guarding him, to see none other than Reno fiddling with his lighter. Green eyes glowed dimly in the half light from what valiant embers still glowed. Sighing and giving up lighting his cigarette, the redhead stuck the damp lighter back in his pocket and threw the cigarette out of the cave.

"What are you doing here?" Cloud asked, probably a little more harshly than necessary.

"Thought I'd make my way back ta Midgar while I could," the Turk started as he moved closer to the fire. It still emanated heat, and Cloud discovered Reno was soaking wet.

Dripping in fact. His ponytail was plastered to the back of his jacket while damp spikes valiantly tried to stand on end. A few succeeded.

"'Cept the second half a th' storm hit and I started lookin fer shelter. Saw this place and figured what the Hel, eh?" He gave Cloud a mischievous grin. "Wasn' expectin' you though."

"What are you doing this far south?" Cloud asked again.

Reno's grin turned downright devious. "Ya really wanna know?"

Cloud blinked, and settled Harry back in the nest of blankets he was in previously to go over and dig through his bag. Reno watched curiously for a few moments before a towel landed on his face.

"Dry off while I find my extra clothes," Cloud said as he went back to digging. It was dark and he did wear black…

"Didn'a know ya cared!" Reno gushed as he started stripping and drying himself.

"Wouldn't want Rufus to make me join ShinRa to replace your death if you got sick," Cloud dryly replied.

Reno laughed, and it turned into an indignant "Oi!" when clothes were thrown yet again in his face. The Turk grumbled as he changed into them while Cloud hung his clothes over the fire and coaxed the embers back into a semblance of life to dry them.

"So who's tha kid?" Reno asked again. Cloud looked up to see a toothpick in his mouth and him still toweling his hair.

"Harry Potter," Cloud finally replied.

"Hmm," Reno hummed thoughtfully. "Sounds like a Grasslands name, or sumthin' from the Corel area."

_If only you knew_, Cloud replied. The exSoldier had half a mind to tell Reno just how he found Harry, but something in him, the Zack voice that occasionally spoke common sense, was warning him.

_Spike, I know you like the guy, but something's off; he's business right now._

Cloud hummed back to acknowledge the voice, and this seemed to appease it as it went quiet and allowed the blond to think more clearly.

"You tired?" Cloud glanced at Reno through his peripheral vision and noted he was tense in his relaxed posture of someone who's been too long without sleep.

"Beat," came the prompt reply with a wan smile.

"I slept last night, you might as well bed down with him," Cloud said, poking the fire and nodding in Harry's direction.

"I don't do jailbait," Reno jested with a smirk and a dark look in his eyes. Cloud gave him a Look while Reno snickered and made his way to the pile of blankets. Pulling them back and sliding in, Reno was genuinely surprised. "He's warm."

"Mako poisoning," Cloud said offhandedly as if it were no big deal.

Reno was curious, confused and a bit alarmed, but still curious nonetheless at Cloud's blasé attitude of the situation. "Why ain't'cha takin' 'im ta Mideel then? Or a 'ospital?"

"Not necessary," Cloud returned, noting Reno's voice was more slurred and accented with his exhaustion. "He woke up shortly before you arrived, ate something, and fell back asleep." He looked at the Turk. "I don't see cause for alarm."

"Then s'pose I see none either."

It didn't take long after Cloud ignored all Reno's baits and taunts for the redhead to settle down and pass out. Like he had admitted himself, the Turk was exhausted. Harry snuggled close to Reno in his sleep; either for the comfort of another body or the cool in contrast to his own temperature Cloud wasn't sure.

Thunder shrieked overhead, and the blond knew that even if he did need to sleep, he probably wouldn't be able to. There was something about storms that always made him alert; alert, alive, observant. He wanted nothing more than to observe the destruction the gods wreaked across the mortal realms.

Something inside him was delighted with the destruction-wanted to run wild with it and take part in it. Cloud wondered if, indeed, this was a good thing.

* * *

Harry woke up to drool running down his forehead and a decidedly damp spot on his head. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, the teen tried to move but found his limbs rather akin to lead and rather hard to move. He ended up giving up his struggle when the drool was dangerously close to running into his eye.

"Oh gross," Harry complained as he lifted his hand to wipe it away, thought better of it, and grabbed the blanket to do so.

"Sorry," a familiar voice apologized. "I forgot he drooled."

Harry blinked as the blanket was removed from his weak grasp and he was slowly extricated from his sleeping companion's grasp. The Gryffindor groaned and shut his eyes as evil light assaulted them. A damp cloth ran over his forehead and rubbed at his hair. Remembering his scar, Harry struggled as best as he could.

"Stop it," that familiar voice chided again. "You're only being difficult."

"'S'not like it'll help much," Harry muttered back white he tried to push Cloud's attention away from cleaning his person. Merlin, the guy was persistent.

He pushed Cloud away with every intention of getting up and going to sit by the fire, he was a bit cold, but after a few tries, Harry had barely managed to sit up. Panting and frustrated, the youth glared angrily at Cloud and complained, "Why's this so hard?"

"You have mako poisoning."

Harry blinked at that; then frowned. "What in bloody hell is mako poisoning?"

Cloud blinked, cocking his head in confusion. "You don't know what Mako poisoning is?"

"What's Mako to begin with?" Harry queried, still a bit angry but getting more curious. "Is it a bug or something…?"

Cloud just gave him a strange look before remembering that Mako could do funny things to your head—he of all people should know that. He explained that it was condensed Lifestream, and at the perplexed look he got from Harry, in turn explained that the Lifestream was the blood of the Planet; when creatures great and small, people and plants died, their essence—their soul—returned to the Lifestream.

"Can they leave it as well?" Harry asked, interested in this theory of death and life.

Cloud just shrugged. Personally, he'd never seen it happen, but the Zack voice in his head…sometimes it made him wonder.

Harry's and Cloud's attention snapped to Reno as he shouted and rolled over in his sleep, mumbling things neither could understand. Harry didn't have the energy to be as concerned as he thought he should be, and Cloud knew Reno for long enough to know everyone had demons and nightmares that haunted them.

"I suppose we should get back before Tifa worries," Cloud murmured barely loud enough for Harry to hear. "The storm is passed and all."

Harry watched as Cloud mumbled more things to himself in a language he did understand before he ambled over to the fire and grabbed a piece of charcoal. Smirking, he started to write, and Harry laughed tired, low chuckles at the accompanying diagrams.

When Reno woke up in the late afternoon, the first thing he was aware of was that he was alone when he had the distinct impression of going to bed _not_ alone. He was also quite warm despite the fact that he knew he never let his apartment get this warm. Curious, Reno sat up, and nearly shouted at the sleeping bandersnatch that was at the foot of his blankets. Carefully easing out from under them, the Turk was about to make a run for it when he saw writing on the wall. Glancing at it, Reno also found that it wasn't in the common speech either, but Old Nibel.

The picture really was a work of art.

"Per'aps if I can catch ye, mayhap we could try that," Reno spoke to the wall. Snickering, the Turk slunk out of the cave to make his way back to Midgar. Hopefully he'd be able to catch a chocobo or something to make the trip a bit shorter.

* * *

Harry gawked at the massive buildings that sculpted the impressive skyline. London didn't have buildings this tall, and he'd never been to Gloucester or Cardiff to see if there was anything this tall there.

The lack of bays and water, however led Harry to believe that he wasn't in England anymore.

Cloud's bike grumbled along, much quieter from its roaring speeds he'd pushed it to across the deadlands, and Harry's hair was messier than usually from the blistering winds. The buildings in this area were shorter than the ones previously, and when Harry mentioned that, Cloud informed him that they were in Edge; a town that had cropped up alongside Midgar after Meteor had hit.

"Most of that city's destroyed anyway," Cloud had finished, and Harry was still at a loss for much of what wasn't said in Cloud's explanations.

They stopped in front of one building that said Seventh Heaven in big letters out front, before Cloud turned down a narrow alley and into a back yard of sorts. He shut his bike off before getting off, Harry quickly followed, and walking his bike into a shed. Locking that up, he motioned for Harry to follow him as he entered a back door.

"Get out now," A cold female voice demanded.

"Swee'hart," An obviously drunken male voice returned. "Ya dunno wha'yer missin!"

"And I don't care to find out," she returned as she filled a pint and shoved it down the bar to the waiting hand. "If you don't leave, I'll make you leave."

Cloud and Harry entered the front of what Harry now understood was a bar, just as a rather voluptuous dark haired woman grabbed a man by the face, leapt over the bar, and proceeded to drag him to the door and thrown him out. "I don't want to see you till next week, Marcus!" She shouted out the door before turning around. Anger rapidly drained from lovely brown eyes as they lit up in happiness as she spied Harry and Cloud.

"Cloud! You're back!" She happily called before jogging over and giving both of them a hug. "You must be Harry."

"Yes Ma'am," Harry carefully replied. He didn't want to get on her bad side seeing as she literally just dragged and threw someone out of her establishment.

"Call me Tifa," The brunette responded. "Cloud can show you to a room upstairs; you look beat, sweetie."

"I'm not a sweetie," Harry scoffed before following Cloud returning the way they came to go up a flight of stairs he'd missed on their way to the front.

"You can bunk in my room for now," Cloud said. "I've been away for a while and don't know which rooms are or aren't occupied at the moment, or if you want to bunk with someone else."

"Fair enough," Harry replied.

He was settled into Cloud's cot with extra blankets as the blond sat at his desk and was going through various papers.

"Cloud?" Harry finally asked. He made an enquiring noise that Harry took as a go to continue. "Why'd Tifa call me sweetie?"

Cloud stopped what he was doing and turned to Harry, gracing the boy with an odd look. "She was mothering you," he finally said.

"Oh." Harry was quiet for a moment before scowling and saying, "I'm sixteen; I haven't had a mother and don't need one now."

Rolling over, the Gryffindor decided sleep was what was needed and proceeded to ignore all the noises he heard and went to sleep.

* * *

_posted 15October2010_

A/N: Stays fresh longer!

And we are now in Midgar! Woo~! It only took me three weeks longer to get this out than I had planned.

Torrone bars FTW.

Anyway, if you ever find yourself in Pittsburgh, go to Manno's Market & Deli; they have the best food there EVER.


	4. Good Morning

Hi guys! Long time no see, I know. Bad life choices and a bad not-boyfriend (long story) will do that to you. Here's the next chapter. Nothing too exciting, and I haven't really gone through it too much as I finished it yesterday. So if there's any gramar/spelling issues forgive me. I was so excited I got this done I wanted to post it. Now, back to animation homework...

* * *

_Hermione was rushing down the hall, a book clasped in her hand; her mouth was moving but Harry couldn't make out what she was saying. A door opened down the corridor the Gryffindor was running down and Draco stepped out; a carefully neutral look on his aristocratic features, and Harry's heart lurched. That look, his mask that he carefully wore when something slanderous was said against him, was perfect porcelain._

_What was going on?_

_There was a familiar black dog sniffing around what looked like somewhere in Egypt but it could very well be the part of the grounds of Aten ar-Heq-t. Harry watched as he looked up and what could only be a large black wolf sauntered up to him. The shadows of other animals were behind it but Harry couldn't make them out before the scene before him changed to a familiar set of rooms and a familiar toe-headed boy writing on some parchment. He was writing in that scratch and scrawl his father hated so much and every now and then referencing a book. There was a raptor Harry hadn't seen before on a perch that looked like a falcon of some kind._

"_Draco!" Harry tried to call. He had read that magic could sometimes do incredible things just by the will of the magician._

_The scion of Malfoy glanced up and looked around, made a note, before going back to reading. He was getting ready to try again, bridge a gap in his dreams or wherever he was, when falcon eyes looked directly at him and Green swamped his vision; bleeding in from the sides and windows and consuming the bright places. Everything that he cherished was Green._

* * *

Cloud just stared at the sleeping figure on his bed, the teen's words running around in his head.

_"I'm sixteen; I haven't had a mother and don't need one now."_

He knew the boy—teenager?—was asleep by how he was breathing, but…_teenager?_ Cloud didn't know what to wrap his mind around first; the fact that Harry wasn't used to having a mother, or the fact that he was sixteen and looked fourteen if he was lucky.

_You know sixteen is legal in most parts, especially where we come from,_ the Zack voice in his head unhelpfully quipped.

"What has that got to do with anything?" Cloud muttered as he got back to checking his invoices and arranging the clutter that had accumulated. He glanced at the clock that happily told him it was 21:45.

_Come on, Spike!_ The Zack voice hedged. _You're not going to make me spell it out for you, are you?_ Cloud could see the nonexistent eyebrow wiggle attached to the end of that statement, and choked on the drink he had taken. He swore in Nibel, which only made the Zack voice in his head laugh and mutter something about the good old times as Cloud made sure that nothing on his desk that had any kind of importance was damaged. He glanced at his bed.

Harry was asleep.

Shaking his head, Cloud went back to his balances, absently wondering about what Harry said. It was then that everything faded to white. His dim dusty room was replaced with ambient lighting and the scent of flowers. A giggle had him stilling, knowing that if he tried to look Aeris would disappear like the playful wind she was named for.

"I see he found you."

Cloud didn't reply. How was he supposed to reply? "Was he lost?" Cloud finally said after a while, but with how Time worked in this place it was probably half a heartbeat he had paused.

The sadness that rolled off of Aeris could almost be tasted. "He was many things and is still other things."

Cloud sighed. He hated the way she couldn't just _say_ things anymore. He knew that she probably knew he was frustrated, but he _also_ knew that she couldn't do anything; the price of information he supposed.

"Is he okay?" Cloud asked.

A soft breeze picked up, whirling the scent of flowers and dirt and emotion about him as he felt his friend smile. "Are you okay?" Aeris quipped back.

Cloud blinked and was back at his desk, staring at an invoice. A glance at the clock showed that it was 23:45. Sighing and running his hand through his hair, Cloud set to getting his desk clean by morning. He would sleep tomorrow.

Harry twitched in his sleep.

It was just as Cloud was finishing up, or deemed himself done enough for bed, that Harry cried out. There was something in that musical, cadenced language…Cloud got up and went to see if Harry was okay, make sure his fever didn't come back, then he was plastered against the far wall of his room.

The Lifestream erupted from the floor of his room and the _presence_ around Harry multiplied tenfold. Cloud watched, helplessly pinned to the wall, unable to do anything. Green roped his arms and legs immobile. Instead of the usual fade Cloud was used to, intense verdant hues devoured what little colour existed. Stuck as he was, the exSoldier followed its ebb and flow and found Harry at its centre. Quite worried when he saw Harry thrashing, Cloud tried once again to free himself from the wall.

"Quinimmo!" Harry veritably screamed. "Per Merlin quinimmo! Cruentus cinis cineris!"

Cloud was going to gather himself for another try when the force about Harry became more…present for lack of a better word as the Lifestream prowled around the teen. It was almost as if the weight about Harry and the ancient knowledge of the Lifestream were sizing each other up before he was swept away in a wash of fire and birdsong.

The blond looked around and found himself in a hollow with what looked like a burned out house. Most of it looked salvageable, but several parts were too burned to accurately evaluate from how far away he was. He was going to head towards the house, when the hair on the back of his neck rose and a tingling ran down his spine.

He wasn't alone.

"We used a phoenix; that's how this is possible," a man's voice said.

Cloud flinched, battle instincts ready, but he remained staring at the house. He knew from experience that if he tried to look everything would disappear and what knowledge the dead worked to depart would be for nothing.

Cloud could feel the sad smile of the specter as it walked toward him.

"I was told you had experience with dealing with those that have moved on," the ghost continued talking about nothing, "She said you did, I wasn't sure, but the girl in the Green said it was okay; that you were the best."

"Aeris?" Cloud couldn't help but ask.

He felt the man behind him shrug.

"What's happening to Harry?"

"Harry….Harry…."

Cloud noticed the man said it with such a reverence and pride reserved for those who hadn't experienced life the way one wanted but were glad of the outcome all the same. The exSoldier just waited.

"Harry will be fine," the man finally said. "With everything else he's gone through, what the Green is doing to him won't hurt him; indeed it will even help him in the long run."

"He'll be fine?" Cloud inquired. There was something inherent in Harry that made him want to help the youth.

"Between the…well…I can't say that," the man stuttered. He paused in thought and Cloud smiled. This seemed to be the first time interacting with the living for this specter and he wasn't quite used to it.

"You know about magic though," the ghost muttered. "The Green is that condensed and personified."

"The Lifestream?"

The specter waved his hand dismissing the statement. "It's known by many things in various places. But Harry will be fine; the Green wasn't sure about something in his mind and his magic was a little different than its own."

"No metaphors?" Cloud quipped with a smile.

He felt a scowl. "Lily's better at this than me."

"And you've said a bit too much; that's why we use metaphors," a female's voice, Cloud assumed was Lily, admonished. "And the Overcast Sky needs to watch out for Hail from a previous Storm; if precautions for weather aren't taken into consideration considerable damage can be wrought. The Storm Child has knowledge that can be used, but Lightning is different Here than There.

"Tell Harry I love him and—"

Cloud got the impression that they wanted to say more, but birdsong, phoenix song he realized, covered any other words the specters said as wherever he was dissolved in white and fire.

When Cloud could see again his room was once again the Spartan dwelling he had had. The neutral colours were comfortable when his mako levels jumped; as they occasionally did depending on his travels and deliveries. His bed, however, was a different story. The slate blue coverlet Tifa had gotten him was now various shades of green and gold. Harry was rubbing his eyes propped up on his elbows before he gave up that endeavor and flopped on his back and rubbed his face.

"Why is it always me?" Harry plaintively asked, probably to no one in particular and the teen probably wasn't expecting an answer; but Cloud knew exactly what he was saying without saying _anything_.

"I ask myself that question all the time."

Harry gave him an undreadable look before rolling over and going back to sleep.

Cloud, feeling exhausted himself, took a cot out of his closet and a few other blankets before falling asleep himself.

The clock read 23:00.

* * *

"…_Magic, for all it is unpredictability as observed in children, is quite reasonable when presented with an offer that it itself wants to do but that can only be achieved through the use of a medium; hence the Dark and Light designations of wizards and witches….Everything has a balance and an extreme, however; those who are Shadows that are favoured by both are a rarity not often seen nor produced by many wizarding lines. Those that are produced are seen as unduly favoured by some and shunned, but most often are cursed to step a more intricate, exact dance than those that are Declared solely for Light or Dark. These Grey wizards and witches eventually get swayed to one side or another depending on the gifts offered. Very few have the mettle to walk 'tween the two."_

_

* * *

_

Harry woke with a start before groaning and closing his eyes. He had the worst headache he could ever remember having. Blindly reaching for the drawer in his nightstand, where he kept a hangover potion, he hoped something would alleviate the blast-ended skrewt that had taken up residence in his brain. How come he couldn't find the bloody drawer? Cracking open an eye, he was met with answers.

There was no nightstand next to his bed.

"Why isn't there a nightstand next to my bed?" Harry asked the room in general.

"That's because it's Cloud's room."

Harry turned, startled, to see a boy with eyes not unlike the ocean with hair a strange red-brown, standing in the doorway. "Huh?"

The boy sighed in a put upon manner. "I was sent to check on you. There's breakfast downstairs, but considering it's almost lunch time Tifa or Cloud could make you a sandwich or something. Reno and Rude aren't here, so be thankful they're not making you lunch…or Marlene."

Okay then. Right. "Who are you?" Harry asked after the deluge of information.

"I'm Denzel," the boy said as if everyone knew who he was and everyone could very well know who he was. Everyone knew who Harry had been before he had set foot in the Wizarding World after all.

"Where am I?" Harry asked, sitting up and rubbing sleep from his eyes. Denzel gave him an odd look and ventured into the room, taking a seat in Cloud's desk chair.

"You're in the orphanage part of Seventh Heaven," Denzel told him. "Seventh Heaven is also a bar Tifa runs. You and Cloud came in last night when things started getting fun."

Harry just gave him a look. He was in a bar/orphanage. There was nothing strange about that at all. Nope. He had just gone off the deep end that's all. Who in their right mind opened a joint bar and orphanage?

"Denzel? Harry awake?"

The violent woman from last night stuck her head around the doorframe and Harry knew this was the woman that had the audacity to open a bar and save children at the same time. She was strong and confident; it showed in the way she held herself and walked. She was also…voluptuous, and by what she was wearing she was quite comfortable with her body. She had a body artists wanted to sculpt and paint.

Harry was wary.

"Oh you are!" She said as she made her way into the room. "I saved some breakfast but if you want something else I could make you something. I was planning on some kind of sandwich for lunch if you want."

Harry just shrugged.

Tifa clucked. "You just take your time and settle in. I'll check the rooms to see if there's any where you would want to move into." She reached out to rub his shoulder and Harry stiffened, not used to the familiar contact, he just barely kept himself from flinching outright, and Tifa seemed to ignore it as she patted his shoulder and got up and left.

Denzel had watched the whole thing through the corner of his eye.

"Hit once or twice?" Denzel boldly asked.

"Once or twice," Harry confirmed. If no one knew him here as it seemed, what would it hurt? He wanted something for his headache before anything.

Denzel just nodded. "You'd probably get along with Jeremy then, maybe Flinn."

"How old are you?" Harry asked.

"Old enough," Denzel replied. "I'm a permanent resident, so I get to know everyone and help set everyone up; relay information that stuff. Where are you from? Know about Midgar and Edge? How old are you?"

"I'm sixteen," Harry replied, a bit defensive. "And I'm from a long way away."

Denzel nodded. "You sound it. Most people lose their accents quick, but yours's a bit thick so it might take longer. You just stick with me; you'll know all the Routs and Ways in no time! Now let's go get something to eat!"

"I need something for my headache first or I'll throw it up," Harry responded as he settled himself back under the covers. "I'm not moving until then."

"Hurts?"

"Agony."

There was silence, then the pattering of feet that disappeared before shortly reappearing. Harry didn't have the energy to move the blanket off his face. A hand and slightly glowing bottle were thrust in front of his face…under the blanket.

"It's a potion," came Denzel's slightly muffled voice. "Drink it up. It should help."

Harry took it, thumbed open the bottle before downing the contents. It surprisingly didn't taste that bad, and Harry had a brief thought that it was really poison as no good potion tasted remotely good. It was universal law.

Several minutes later had Harry throwing the covers off and padding downstairs after Denzel to raid the kitchen. Harry noticed that it looked like he was somewhere where muggles took precedence, but he vaguely remembered Cloud mention something about magic and ethers and potions. And Denzel had just given him a potion.

Denzel led him into a different kitchen than what he came through last night with Cloud. There were several children in it eating or doing a chore of some kind.

"Guys," Denzel called. "This is Harry; new kid came in last night."

A chorus of 'hi's' and 'hello's' echoed about after Denzel's proclamation. "Hullo," Harry responded. A few of the girls giggled and started to talk about his accent, and Harry just sighed. Looks like he'd gain fame here too.

"Tifa left your food wrapped in the fridge," the kid at the table said pointing towards the appliance with a spoon before going back to his food. He was reading the paper, so Harry ignored him and went to see what Tifa had made him for breakfast.

It looked like porridge with an over-easy egg.

"She didn't know how you were feeling so she made something easy," one of the girls piped up. She had a stuffed animal of something and pigtails.

"Where are the spoons?"

After Harry got situated at the table, a kid—Justin—having heated up his food and a girl—Marlene—having gotten him a spoon, he was then pressed for his story. The other kids knew he wasn't from around there, his accent was proof of that, but Harry didn't know what to tell them. He didn't even know where _here_ was and if the Ministry of Magic had its fingers this far out.

_I was at a dinner party when Death Eaters showed up and I was fighting my arch nemesis before a summons gone wrong sent me here, wherever that is_, didn't sound contrived or irrational at all.

"He had mako poisoning," a familiar voice said.

Every head in the room looked to the back door to see Cloud leaning against the frame; scraping his boots on something and wiping his hands on a rag that used to be white. He was covered in grease and dirt. Cloud's glowing blue eyes took all the kids in. "Don't press him too much; he might not remember much or be able to tell you much. You all should know what mako does to people," he softly admonished.

"Yes Cloud," chorused from all the children.

"Good. Now scram and play somewhere for a few hours. You know when you need to be back for lunch."

The 'Yes Cloud!'s this time were enthusiastic as the kids exploded into action. Harry thought he heard a "stay close to Denzel" as he was hauled out the door by an exuberant child. Harry sighed. He couldn't wait till lunch.

Cloud smiled as the kids ran out the door, Denzel dragging Harry out by his arm. He himself was filthy; he'd been tinkering with Fenrir all morning. He'd noticed the pitch in her engine was off yesterday coming across the badlands outside Midgar. Getting some water, he shook his head over the shrieks and cries he could still hear before going back out to his bike.

* * *

It was shortly before they'd have to make their way back to Seventh Heaven for lunch, Harry had been dragged all over Edge and Midgar—or what was left of it—by Denzel and a few other boys. He had been shown various ways and shortcuts; routs through the city that seemed obvious to take once he'd been shown them. While all the adults took the main roads, the kids were making a few gil—a new monetary system Harry had to learn—delivering things from place to place within Midgar and Edge.

But before lunch found them in the Slums having delivered a few envelopes to a lady Denzel had known that Harry had already forgotten her name. She had had a lovely garden, and Harry had complimented it. She had smiled sadly at it and said it had been her daughter's.

"This way," Denzel had beckoned. He had led them through a few round about twists and through a hole in the wall between Sectors—Harry'd been given a crash course in the different Sectors and which ones he shouldn't be in during different times of the day—and he stopped dead.

The roof was missing in the back corner, but it could be nothing less than a church. It was beautiful; with a stained glass window above sharply arched doors—it seemed like a bit of England had fallen into this hodge podge of muggle technology and energy and magic that seemed to be the daily life for these people. The few kids that had braved the slums wandered ahead of him as Harry carefully made his way up the front steps. There was a weight about the building that reminded the Gryffindor of Hogwarts; a knowledge and sentience. Shrugging, Harry followed the kids inside.

The first thing he noticed was that a few pillars were down, and it looked like a fight had taken place in it. Pews were smashed and the pieces were scattered about. What few pews were left were up front next to a giant hole in the floor where the kids were…swimming?

Ducking underneath a pillar, Harry made his way over to the impromptu pond. A cup was thrust in his face by Flinn. "It's good!"

"Are you sure?" Harry eyed the cup dubiously. Sure; the kids had grown up in this environment and drinking…pond…water surely couldn't be harmful to them. But he wasn't from around here, and he didn't want to get sick with something he had to suffer through because what little magic was available to the people here couldn't fix whatever he had caught.

"The Flower Lady said you'd like it," Flinn prodded.

Flower Lady? "Green eyes?" Harry asked. The boy nodded and Harry carefully took the cup. Flinn smiled and ran off to join everyone else playing in the water.

For how tarnished it looked on the outside, it was clean as could be on the inside—the water was clear too. Shrugging, and what harm could be done?, Harry downed the water.

It was the sweetest, most refreshing beverage Harry had had outside of a potion.

Hands landed on his shoulders, hair brushing his cheeks. "That wasn't hard was it?" A familiar, delicate female voice said. "I'm glad you like my church. You're welcome to poke through my garden if you want."

"Thank you?" Harry replied. He wasn't sure what to say. "You're real?"

There was girlish laughter and the hands left. Harry turned and caught the edge of pink on his vision before he came face to face with the laughing purple eyes of a large black wolf. Harry started, but it panted laughter, something Harry was used to through Padfoot, but that changed when some rocks crumbled down the column. It turned, examined the rocks, before snarling and launching itself at something.

"Monsters!" someone cried. The kids scattered.

"Come on!" Denzel said as he grabbed Harry's arm.

Harry caught sight of one in the reflection of the water and shuddered, bolting as fast as he dared without getting lost. He followed Denzel as best he could—the boy was like flash lightning—but hot breath had him dashing into a tiny hole and into a nook. Growling and snarling, claws and big teeth were Harry's world.

So why not answer with claws and teeth?

The other orphans that had been in the Slum group stopped in their dash when they reached slightly safer ground, a slightly more populated area near the hole in the wall between sectors. The yowl that echoed through the slums had a few people pausing, as did the roar that followed. Monster fights were common enough, though, that people paid them no mind. The monsters didn't really go after them anymore anyway.

Sometime later, a large cat found the group of boys talking by the wall, and then Harry was stumbling out of the shortcuts.

"Come on!"

"We're late for lunch!"

"Tifa's gonna whack me," one of the boys whinged.

"You okay?" Denzel asked as they slipped through the hole and made their way to Edge.

"I'm good," Harry replied.

They did get a tongue lashing from Tifa. She told them they had all the time in Gaia to show Harry everything and they didn't need to do it in one day. Shamefaced and contrite, the boys sat down to lunch. Instead of going out after lunch, Harry decided to lay down for a bit. The energy he had had was just about gone. He hated fevers.

He entered Cloud's room—as he wasn't told otherwise—and nearly cursed the man as he was pinned to the door at swordpoint.

"Why do you smell like feral guardhounds and cats?"

_What?_

"Huh?" Harry replied. Then his brain processed the words. Merlin, he was tired. He hadn't done an animagus transformation that fast in a while. "We went to this church and some monsters came. I got a bit lost running from them and found some help with a few felines." Mostly true.

Harry watched as Cloud's eyes seemed to glow a bit more brightly than normal. "That is true, and it isn't." He paused for a moment, thoughts clear in his eyes, before he set the sword down. "I have some questions, don't feel obligated to answer if you don't want to."

"Okay," Harry carefully replied.

Cloud seemed to fidget, unsure where to begin, before he scowled at no one in particular. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "I hate it when you say that", before his unnerving attention was focused yet again on Harry.

"What are you?"

The question was innocent enough, Harry supposed, but Cloud couldn't know the can of worms he opened. _You Freak! What did you do?_ Various slurs rang through his head that he'd heard growing up, and doubts about him whispered from the mouths of witches and wizards. No acceptance. Harry was tired, and from where he was he was famous. Considering which card he should play, Harry decided to dance.

"I'm many things," Harry said, eyes glowing slightly and narrowing, taking in all of Cloud. "You seem to be more than what you appear."

Cloud's curiosity turned blank as emotion was wiped off his face, eyes calculating. Harry couldn't know that the Zack voice that had been more raucous in Cloud's head whispered _dude!_, before going blessedly silent, observing what Cloud would do. Something feral in Cloud purred at the challenge, passive or not, but challenge nonetheless.

"I'm called a hero and a monster," Cloud honestly replied, shifting his position into something more comfortable. "I'm myself and not; I watch people that watch me differently—that are waiting for something."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Cloud danced, but the steps were different. People watched Cloud? That made sense. He had that bloody huge sword, but there was also something about him that screamed Danger! Predator! That must put a lot of people on edge. But the way Cloud was sitting, he was aware of it, but didn't particularly care for it. He hadn't asked to become a predator, whereas Harry hadn't been given any choice but Hunter.

"You are no monster," Harry finally said. "You just lack like-minded individuals that appreciate your worth and your violence."

Cloud scowled. "I'm not violent."

Harry smiled. "And you're lashing out." _Point._

Cloud seemed to blink and listen to something before shaking his head. "You still smell like cats."

Harry smiled, decidedly predatorily. "My secret."

Cloud arched an eyebrow.

Harry smiled, less menacingly.

Cloud just sighed and shook his head. "I put some clothes in the dresser for you; you should go through them today and make sure they fit right. There's also a nightstand next to the bed for you."

Harry looked and sure enough there was a wooden stand next to the head of the bed. Harry arched an eyebrow and Cloud just smiled. "I wasn't raised in the city," Cloud said as he turned to his desk, "but I wasn't raised by wolves either."

_Touché._

Harry decided that a nap was in order to figure everything out. He was sore from running and climbing all morning, and his magic was still settling about him after that fight with the Green. He'd need to meditate after he woke up.

Cloud glanced at Harry as the boy sighed and rolled over. Tifa wouldn't be happy that he was keeping him in his room, but he was one of the older boys in the orphanage, and he needed his own space.

Out in the Badlands, darkness lay in wait and clouds gathered on the horizon.

* * *

_posted 27January2011_


	5. Phonecalls and Bandages

A/N: Shorter chapter. The conversation between Harry and Cloud took forever to figure out and I'm still not happy with it. Reviews will be answered on the homepage. If y'all are wondering where your review responses are, since I'm pretty good at that, that's where they are. I tried posting this days ago, and it was posted on the homepage days ago, but I kept getting an error that was apparently recently fixed.

* * *

_"Vincent, come by the bar. There's someone here you should see."_

Message received at 09:37 hours Tuesday July 12th.

* * *

_Silhouettes of birds played in the sky; one significantly larger than the other. Harry was on his back in the field enjoying the sun that hadn't been seen in nigh on a week or more. There was another Gryffindor with him in the field watching the birds, but that wasn't anything new. Since the last fiasco with Voldemort, however, a member of The Resistance was with him at all times; he still coughed occasionally and his hand ached from the altercation. Absently rubbing his hand, Harry watched as another bird, larger than the smallest one but smaller than the largest joined the playing in the sky._

_"I love watching the birds," his companion said. "Reminds me a bit of home."_

_Harry nodded, green eyes riveted to the wheeling shapes in the sky. Then a song, voice really, did Harry recognize when one of the larger birds started singing._

_"That's Fawkes," Harry stated. He was so content where he was that the surprise of seeing the famous phoenix wherever he was was more a pleasant surprise than the shock it should have been. Another voice, a deeper, more robust song, filled the air and Harry realized it was the largest bird; another phoenix._

_"Fawkes seems to be okay with Vuurveleigje," his companion commented, a smile in his voice. "you'll have a job to do to help the Firefly get home."_

_"I always have a job to do for someone," Harry scathingly replied._

_"Sometimes helping others," the Gryffindor slowly began, "is the only way we can help ourselves regardless of the outcome."_

_Harry sighed, more exasperated than angry._

_His companion sighed as well. "Dammit I'm totally out of practice with these things." Harry snickered at his friend's frustration; listening as the grass rustled as he ran his hand through his hair. He muttered something that sounded like 'speaking without talking' but Harry wasn't too sure as his attention was elsewhere._

_The blue blue sky was overcome with clouds; slate coloured growling clouds that promised retribution to the land they lorded over._

_"Make sure you're prepared for Weather, Storm Child," his friend said, laughter, jokes and frustration gone. "Destruction comes from where you least expect it, and simple things like water, when given enough pressure, can cause more damage than anything Seas and Oceans can throw."_

_Harry glanced over and saw not a student in Hogwarts robes, but a large black wolf._

Harry gasped and sat up, wide awake.

Disappointment flared sharp in him when he realized that he wasn't in the field at Hogwarts, but in a bed, in an increasingly familiar room. Harry looked around, breathing calming, familiarizing himself with everything.

The door opened and Cloud came him. Harry tried to act like nothing was wrong, but from what he'd heard from the other children, Cloud didn't miss much. Sure enough, blue eyes narrowed and glowed a bit more brightly as they examined his person.

"Nightmare?"

Harry shrugged.

Cloud didn't pursue it further, but he did make his way to the bed where Harry was. "I noticed when you came back the splint on your wrist was skewed. I'm going to try to Heal your hand."

Harry wasn't too sure about this procedure. He warily watched Cloud, his eyes softly glowing green, as the exSoldier carefully unwrapped the bandages he had so carefully bound Harry's wrist in two days ago in the cave. Sure enough, the familiar pain of something broken screamed down the Gryffindor's nerves and when the bandages were finally off, his wrist was an ugly black and purple mess.

"That really did a number," Harry muttered as he tried to wiggle his fingers. Sharp, agonizing pain had his movements limited to twitches, and a strange look from Cloud. A sharp slice of pain had him stopping his pathetic attempts at movement.

Cloud's attention went back to the hand he was gingerly holding. "You probably shouldn't have done that."

"I'm told that a l-" And Harry screamed as Cloud reset two bones in his hand and Healed it.

Harry was in too much shock and pain to truly comprehend what Cloud had done at first, but when he felt the foreign magic enter his system, Harry nearly went into a seizure. Crooning, familiar music ran through the back of his head.

Blackness streaked across his vision, and in those brief moments, Harry thought he saw eyes, but then he blinked and concerned blue eyes were staring intently into his own.

Cloud nodded, seemingly satisfied with something.

"You're back," was all he said.

Harry just choked back another scream as Cloud did something else to his hand and that foreign magic swamped his limb. He could _feel_ his bones fusing back together.

When Harry could finally think past the pain, he gave Cloud a dark look Voldemort would have been jealous over. "Blood and ashes! What in Merlin were you doing?"

Cloud gave him a strange look, and there was something distinctly not-Cloud that flashed through his eyes when Harry swore. Green eyes narrowed, and the curiosity that wasn't Cloud's came back.

"I told you I was going to Heal you," Cloud said. "If you tell someone you're going to set a broken bone, the person always flinches and they go through more pain than they have to.

"And who's Merlin?"

That's when Harry knew he was fucked.

* * *

_The light danced about him; fire and foam, air and water, sky and earth. His channels were damaged, not enough to incapacitate him, but it would be painful to cast magic. Whatever the Green had done to him, despite how painful it was, it had carved larger, slightly different, channels through him and the ones he had had before were practically nonexistent._

No wonder I'm in so much pain_, Harry absently thought._

_Grabbing a tangled angry ball of magic, Harry carefully loosed it and unwound it before setting it to dance and flow down and through and around his channels. In a way, Harry thought the light was reminiscent of the Green before he remembered the Green was mean and went back to his task._

* * *

Cloud was in the kitchen making hot cocoa, something he wasn't particularly fond of but craved every now and then. He and his mother hadn't had the money to buy the powdered confection from the traders as often as the rest of the town did, so Cloud, unlike Tifa and most of the rest of Nibelheim, hadn't acquired a taste for the bittersweet drink.

He blamed Zack.

He had sought refuge in the kitchen after he had Healed Harry's hand; the boy's almost violent reaction to magic a curiosity to Cloud and his parts-different from Vincent and his Parts. At least his parts were more feelings and thoughts and Zack and noted himself as King or something. Vincent was constantly arguing with himself and the waves it caused sometimes...well...hurt for lack of a better word.

He was aware of Tifa entering the kitchen, but these days no one really made his hackles stand up.

"Cloud."

Immense willpower was used not to flinch. That tone of voice alone could thaw Hel if She let Tifa near Her domain.

"Tifa," he calmly responded as he turned around and sipped his warm drink. He got an odd look from Tifa, the princess of Nibelheim probably wondering why he was drinking said hot cocoa that was probably hers, but his hope for a tangent was crushed when her confusion ran away and was replaced with determination.

_Here it comes_...Zack mimicked an announcer voice.

"How come you haven't set Harry up with the rest of the boys in the orphanage?"

_And there it goes!_ Zack finished.

Cloud just sipped his drink a minute and let Tifa stand there. The bar wasn't due to open for a good hour or more yet, and business wouldn't pick up for a good hour or more after that. "Tifa," Cloud finally began. "Just how old do you think Harry is?"

"He looks about thirteen or so," Tifa replied. "I figured I could bunk him with Denzel since he has bunkbeds in his room-"

"That he shares pretty regularly with Flinn, or Jeremy. Jayden, Semui, Henri, Luke." He sipped his cocoa again and raised an eyebrow. "Do I need to continue?"

"He could always room with Geoff I suppose, but he's a bit young..." Tifa wondered.

Cloud scowled. "Harry's almost sixteen."

Tifa stared. "Harry can't be almost sixteen," she finally responded. "Fifteen? Really?"

"He's the oldest boy here," Cloud replied.

"He can't bunk with you," Tifa adamantly responded.

Cloud paused and really looked at Tifa. Despite how she came off, the brunette wasn't stupid. Everyone had their moments, some more so than others, but Tifa was intelligent. _Most of the time_, Zack quipped and Cloud ignored. She was relaxed, or at least that's what she wanted people to think. Her posture was a little too controlled, too perfect; no one but him or someone equally enhanced-or Turk-could possibly see through her.

"You're scared," and Tifa scowled. Cloud frowned. "I'm right; what are you scared of?"

"He's different," Tifa finally admitted. "I don't know what it is, but he feels...different. Dangerous but not. I don't know!"

Cloud canted his head, trying to figure her out.

_Shouldn't do that, Spike_, Zack warned. _Makes you look feral_.

"Don't do that!" Tifa snapped.

"Do what?" Cloud inquired, canting his head in the other direction.

"I'm opening the bar," Tifa said, walking away from him.

"You can't leave in the middle of a conversation," Cloud acidly retorted. "I listen to you talk and now you can't listen to me? Isn't this what you wanted? Me talking?"

"It's like you're playing favourites!" Tifa responded, equally scathing in tone. "What will the other children, all of whom look up to you like you're Ramuh or something, say when Harry shares your room and you barely give them the time of day?"

"Should I quit my delivery job then?" Cloud seethed. "Most if not all of my income goes to your orphanage and I watch the kids whenever I'm not off who knows where on Gaia supporting them!"

"No!"

"What then?" Cloud continued. "What do you want me to do, Tifa? Board Harry with the younger kids who only want to play Soldiers and Monsters, draw with crayons, and swordfight with sticks?"

Tifa picked up the skillet that had been started for dinner and swung it at Cloud; hot oil and sautéed vegetables flying all over the kitchen. Cloud calmly lifted his arm and the pan warped and bent around it. He set his cocoa down, half of which had spilled, and pulled the skillet off his arm. The burns were already healing and what little bruising there was disappeared before Tifa noticed it.

Blue eyes looked up; Tifa looked horrified.

"I think it's time to open the bar," Cloud said as he made his way towards the stairs, what was left of his hot cocoa in his hand. "I'm going to balance my ledgers."

Tifa watched him go. Sighing, knowing she let her temper get the best of her, she trudged into the back to get the various dishes ready that'd be cooked for the bar tonight.

* * *

_"Cloud! This is Princess Yuffie! Betcha couldn't guess! Anyway, I was out wandering around and found something strange out in the Grasslands that I wanted you to look at. I'm on my way to the bar! See you soon~!"_ Click.

Message received at 12:37 hours Wednesday July 13th.

* * *

_Something cut through the light and Harry's concentration deviated, taking in another glowing agitated shape in the distance. The lights were like his, but not; and it made Harry curious. Laying what he was doing in a rather deep trench, he focused more on that other light. He waded through his own light; soothing it and directing it as he went. A particularly viciously angry ball collided with himself, what was tangible wherever he was, and Harry embraced it; mumbled nonsense to it as he stroked it and calmed it and untangled the light. When it was calm and flowing Harry placed it down in the trench it had wrenched itself out of._

_The light was right next to him._

_Harry touched it..._

_pictures and sound_

_hot and cold_

_people he knew but Harry knew he'd never seen before_

"It's mating season for the dragons,"_ a woman with blonde hair and familiar blue eyes said._ "Be careful picking the raspberries."

_Smiling purple eyes and messy black hair._

_moonlight personified in a flowing cascade-green eyes similar to his looked over the shoulder before turning back and continuing on their way._

_Laughing green eyes framed in brown curls looked at him, and it was like Harry was seeing double vision_

"What kind of pie would you like Cloud?"

"What kind of pie would you like Zack?"

_both images asked at the same time, questions echoing around in his head._

_Immense pressure grew as more and more images and sound-_

_Black leather and sword fights_

_Save the Planet_

_Mother-not mother-JenovaMother_

_Kill!Destroy-Save!Planet_

_- flew around and through Harry's head before it grew too much._

_Harry called on his magic, not noticing how fast it responded, and wrenched himself into his animagus form before retreating into the cat's mind to save himself._

Cloud blinked dumbly, eyes focused on nothing as images of fantastic myth and horrible abuse flitted through his mind, Zack blessedly quiet watching it all with him.

_"Freak?"_ Zack questioningly echoed as a thin horsey woman chased a young Harry with a rolling pin for daring to grab some scraps of pie dough.

"Shhh," Cloud admonished. More and more images of Harry at what was soon labeled his Aunt and Uncle's home on his mother's side flew through Cloud's mind before images of a castle and magic flitted through.

_"Yer a wizard, 'Arry," a large, giant of a man in an equally large trench-coat informed an 11 year old Harry Potter._

More and more images and they abruptly stopped when the yowl of a cat had Cloud blinking.

Glancing down on the bed was the large cat with squarish spots that he had seen before in the cave when he had first found Harry. Feline eyes turned to him and Cloud's heart nearly stopped with how similar they looked to another pair of green eyes he knew.

The cat bared impressive fangs and hissed; magic clearly flowing about the cat as if it were a Summons. Cloud held his hand out to be sniffed, but the animal crouched down more and growled more viciously.

Whispering started in Cloud's head, and the exSoldier didn't notice it at first as it happened often enough to be ignored, but after a time of trying to calm the cat and not antagonize it into attacking, Cloud realized that it wasn't nonsense, but one word

_neshshu...neshshu...neshshu...neshshu..._

"Neshshu?" Cloud sounded out the word.

The cat immediately stopped and gave him a curious look; eyes still feral.

"Neshshu?" Cloud queried again. "Is that your name?"

Something feral in the feline's eyes slowly melted away to something Cloud vaguely recognized.

The cat sneezed, and in the light, Cloud caught a bit of grey fur that resembled the lightning bolt scar of Harry Potter.

"Harry?" Cloud softly inquired.

_Neshshu_, softly floated through Cloud's mind. _It's safer this way._

Cloud glanced over the cat on his bed. "What kind of cat are you?"

_Borneo Clouded Leopard_, Neshshu replied. _Although I also look quite similar to certain species of magical cat called a Nundu...my animagus form is young, however, so I might gain Nundu abilities; who knows?_

Cloud thought it was very odd to see a cat shrug. He had no idea what a Nundu was, and he had the vague feeling that he didn't want to know what one was. He flinched as Zack poked him, and he was aware of Neshshu narrowing his eyes.

_"You know what they say about cats,"_ the memory voice of his Mother said echoing through the recesses of his mind from where he had buried the memory._ "They live on two planes; the one we exist on and the one where the dead walk. "_

Cloud shook his head, loosing yet another memory of a much larger black cat.

"What's the black one called?"

_Kam-t_, was the prompt reply. _You don't want to meet _him_ unless you have to._

Cloud nodded, keeping to himself the images he had seen. He didn't want to bring up the memories that cast the shadows he could now recognize in Harry's green eyes. He wanted to bring them up, Shiva he wanted to help the boy. Something in him, some feral protective part of him, knew that it was too soon.

"I don't supposed you'll be Harry anytime soon?" Cloud asked and blinked a few times as a few pyreflies wrapped around the cat and then Harry was sitting there. He stretched and yawned.

Cloud reached out and placed his hand on the boy's forehead; covering that famous scar. He frowned as Harry blinked surprised eyes at him.

"You still have a fever."

"No surprise."

"Lay down and rest," Cloud advised. "I'm going to be working at my desk. Ask if you need something."

"Sure."

And Harry laid down to sleep and Cloud went to work.

* * *

_"Vincent, I've called Cloud to tell him this as well. I'm getting strange readings from the Midgar area and I've had some fluctuations off the Goblin Islands and a few places where there are documented flocks of wild Chocobos. I haven't been able to pinpoint anything, but keep your guard up. I have a bad feeling about this." _Click.

Message received at 20:58 hours Wednesday July 13th.

* * *

Eyes watched the horizon, stretching arms that hadn't been used in much too long. A breeze picked up and played with soft hair that was much stronger than it looked.

"It won't be too much longer now."

* * *

In a large room of Aten ar-Heq-t, grey eyes snapped to the sky as Rehkit screamed. The exotic falcon dove and wheeled in the sky, battling something unseen to Draco's eyes. Then, in an explosion of fire, the largest phoenix the Malfoy scion had ever seen exploded into existence.

Rehkit screamed again.

The phoenix cried out, nearly bringing Draco to his knees.

Something somewhere was very, very wrong.

* * *

_posted 31March2011_


	6. Take it Off

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I haven't had internet for a while and, like, no time to write. I've had to rehome my wonderful dog: Ianto. I'm quite sad right now. It probably reflects near the end of the chapter as most of this was written previously. There's a part in the middle that might not make sense. I had to bridge the two together. I had it on my bf's computer that is wherever bestbuy sends its stuff for maintenance (they Effed up his keyboard when they replaced a usb port and his charger jack). So this might be reposted sometime within the next two weeks.

If I'm not dead from finals.

WARNINGS: club, dirty dancing, drinking, alcohol, suggested malexmale pairing, and illegal drug use (I in no way know how the drug I referenced works other than through a yaoi manga I read...and how the character reacted)

Enjoy!

* * *

Harry glared out the window. Where there had been sunny skies only a few hours ago, there was now black skies and pouring rain. The other children were slightly put out, but it appeared nothing could stop their enthusiasm for long. Shortly after Tifa banned them from going out, the kids had separated into groups and were already playing. Harry had managed to slink away and was now glaring out the window at the rain, storm, and city before anyone could get him to play. His animagus wanted out, and one could only deny a cat so long.

He glanced out the window and looked down, judging the distance. He guessed and measured it about three, maybe four metres. Knowing that was no problem, he only had to figure out which animagus wanted out. Black fur and forests filled his vision, and Harry knew which one was bothering him. Opening the window, Harry relented to pitch black fur and the power of the panther. With barely a thought Kam-t jumped out the window and disappeared into the gloom.

* * *

Cloud sighed. He didn't mind the rain, and money was money, but he still preferred a good sunny day. He opened his room and looked up just in time to see a black tail disappear through his window.

His open window.

Cloud freaked. With how the wind was blowing the rain was getting all over his ledgers and the documents on his desk. Closing the window, Cloud looked back when he thought he saw something. Glowing blue eyes examined the outside looking for a possible threat. All that he could see was a disappearing tail in the gloom. Glancing down at the window ledge he spotted vicious looking claw marks. Glancing at the bed he was surprised to see it neat and made. He had been half expecting Harry to be mauled what with the claw marks on the sill. Wondering where the boy was Cloud sat down to balance his legers.

* * *

Harry was glad to be out of Seventh Heaven. He conceded to the point that he might be somewhat jaded when the joy and happiness of the younger children made him slightly uneasy. When the kids asked to play with him, he wasn't quite sure how to respond. He had awkwardly played with some of the kids yesterday after Cloud had Healed his hand. After Harry had gotten over the shock of it, he had inquired about the glass marble. Cloud had smiled and told him that it wasn't glass or a marble, but naturally crystallized mako called materia. "There are manufactured ones, too," Cloud had explained, "but you usually get a stronger effect with materia that occur naturally."

The idea that people could only do magic through these materia was a bit disturbing to Harry who could feel it hum and sing under his skin.

Snarling, Harry prowled deeper into the dark of the ruins that signaled the border between Edge and Midgar proper. He paused suddenly, ears swiveling madly. There had been something…something there. Veering to the left he prowled around for a while until he heard it: music. He eventually found the warehouse. He'd gone through several Sectors before he finally found it. The way under the Plate was built carried acoustics in the most annoying way.

Jumping over the fence and bypassing the bouncer, Kam-t reverted to Harry and the wizard snuck into the building.

The walls were apparently soundproof, but only to so many decibels if he had followed the music here. He entered and was blown back a step from the force of it. Green eyes surveyed the apparent sin around him. Bodies seductively danced against each other everywhere. Drinks were passed around; some with an eerie glow to them. In the back corner he thought he saw something, but it was too dark to make out details.

You were no one, just another body grinding.

No one.

Freedom in anonymity.

Harry smiled. Transfiguring his clothes into something that he saw some Slytherins wear Friday nights, the Gryffindor entered the crowd. Swaying and dancing, the dark haired youth made his way to the center; dancing with whoever came up to him and not caring about it. He did this for who knows how long; long enough for the rain outside to turn into an angry storm. The boom of the thunder could even just be heard over the base.

As the DJ broke to compile another string of songs, just throwing a random one down for people to dance to, Harry made his way to the bar for a drink. As he meandered there, he took note of a woman with curly brown hair, another woman with short cropped red hair, and a slightly familiar redhead. Glancing at the menu, he slowly made his way to the growingly more familiar redhead. The redhead suddenly looked up, green eyes glowing slightly in the gloom; tattoos bright on his face.

Harry frowned.

"It's good ta see ya up and about!" the man crowed. "Lemme get'cha a drink!"

"Thanks I guess," Harry responded. "I don't really know what's which; just please no glowy-ness."

The man waved his hand in a dismissing manner. "Wouldna do that to ya with what'cha went through." He continued to say something in his grungy accent rather fast to the bartender who nodded and started grabbing bottles.

He turned his attention back to Harry.

"I suppose ya don't r'member my name," he said with a devious smile. "I know yer's is Harry; mine's Reno."

The bartender set a purple drink in front of Harry. Reno gave him money.

"Thanks…" Harry said a bit uncertainly. He raised an eyebrow. "You sure this is safe?"

"S'liquor: course it's not," was the prompt reply as Reno raised his eyebrow and took a swig of his own drink.

He had a point.

Grabbing the glass, Harry took a fast swig and was surprised that it tasted good. Then again, the strongest poisons tasted the best.

"Good?" Reno prompted.

Harry nodded, swallowed his mouthful of drink, and smiled. "Great."

A seductive smile that should only grace those magical creatures involved in pleasurable activities curled the redhead's lips. "Wanna dance?"

Harry smiled back.

They danced.

Bodies twined and the music thrummed through their bodies. People joined them; people left them. Drinks were bought and thrown back, sipped, spilled and enjoyed. The warm club became hot and his body did its job. Sitting at the bar getting drinks, Harry needed the loo. Reno waved him in a general direction after he asked for it, and Harry stumbled off towards it. The door swung open and he stared.

There was graffiti everywhere. Some glowed under the sporadic black lights, while others glowed in the dark and there was just the regular painted ones. The effect made the colours swirl and dance in his vision, so he supposed that that was the effect they were going for. Smiling as he swayed at the urinal, Harry watched them for a while until he realized that he should probably get back to Reno.

Humming in tune to his magic as he swayed and danced his way back to Reno and his fizzing drink, Harry plopped in his seat. Had his drink always been fizzy? There had been a few to go by he thought but Reno ordered his drinks so they were fine, right? He said that they wouldn't do more than alcohol should.

Throwing it back, he smiled and swayed over to Reno to have another dance.

People came to dance with them, people left; drinks came and went of all the colours of the rainbow. Some of Reno's, Harry noticed, glowed while others fizzed; one or two did both. It wasn't long before the Gryffindor's magic gave a jolt, a light nearby buzzed out.

Accidental Magic.

It took Harry till the third light to realize it was him, and when he finally turned his attention inward, his magic and animagi roared at him.

Something was wrong.

Something was very very wrong.

"You okay?" Reno slurred as he grabbed Harry's arm. The wizard shrugged it off.

"I have to go," He slurred. Was he drunk?

"I don'think you should go 'lone ta wherever it is ya going." The redhead's eyes were getting serious behind their slight haze and miniscule glow.

"I need to go now," Harry said as he ducked and twisted. Years of evading Dudly's gang and kids, spells, Death Eaters and Voldemort at school had Harry twisting through the crowd.

"Harry!"

Fuck, that was too close.

Dodging left through a door, ignoring the shout of the startled man, and the wanting moan of the girl or whore he was doing, Harry dodged through the connecting door and back out of the suite as he heard and angry shout behind him as Reno obviously followed him. Grinning, Harry ducked into the bathroom and checked to make sure it was empty.

He groaned as his stomach roiled this time.

Rushing into a random stall, he leaned over and vomited his dinner.

Wiping his mouth, he stood and went over to the propped open window.

Judging distance as his head swam, he weighed his options and jumped.

His vision blacked before he hit the ground.

Harry hissed as his magic painfully roiled within him. Fluttering his eyes open, the first thing he realized was that he wasn't anywhere near the warehouse. It must have taken more than a little maneuvering to lose Reno. The man was a limpet when he had it in mind. Harry's green eyes surveyed his surroundings, not being nearly far enough away from the club for his liking as he still heard the beat strongly enough, but Kam-t insisted: something was wrong. He could feel the heat and Green course through his blood; hot and angry and searching. Harry stumbled, the pain of his skinned knees negligible as they twisted backwards as the Black Panther came into existence. His challenging roar echoed through the slums as the sweating, irritated cat plunged into the darkness of Under the Plate.

* * *

Vincent walked through the grey area between Old Midgar and Edge proper. He hadn't been planning on coming back to the area for a few months yet if not a year or more. He had needed the escape after the Remnants and the echoes of Hojo's experiments came to light once more.

The quiet.

The solitude.

The absence of Yuffie.

He heard the echo of a roar from somewhere in the Slums and thought nothing of it. Taking his time talking with people and gathering information as to what had been happening while he was gone. By the end of a few hours, he found the current warehouse the parties were going to be at, the newest drugs, the newest drinks, Tifa's bar reputation going up as the place to be on a Saturday night.  
He also heard the whisper of two creatures that roamed the dark.

Chaos paid an iota of attention to that.

"Creatures?" Vincent asked his latest drinking partner. This was his sixth dive that night.

The man threw back his drink and wiped his mouth on the back of his grimy hand.

"One o' them's gots spots," he whispered. "Th' othe'r un's black as the bottom of the Plate."

"Black as the darkness is dark!" his drinking buddy piped up before dissolving into giggling hysterics.

Vincent threw back his drink and excused himself before leaving the bar.

Interesting.

Vincent scowled. 'What's so interesting?'

The demon didn't deign to answer.

But a growl from the shadows did.

Vincent instinctually pulled his gun and fired.

The skittering of claws and the whisper of wind in fur alerted the gunman that his target had evaded his shot; something that hadn't happened in a while. Curious, Vincent followed the noise of skittering claws and whispering steps into the darkness.

He shot at the creature a few other times when it strayed into the more populated areas, scaring the citizens that were or were not its intended targets, but scaring the creature back into the shadows. Chaos hummed in the back of his mind the entire time. The gunman was sure the demon in him knew what the creature was he was hunting despite the fact that Vincent himself could only catch the glimpse of an outline here or there. He glared at the beast in agitation.

That was when a streak of red and a roar pounced on the darker spot of a black shadow ahead of the gunman. The answering roar made his ears ring and Chaos to pay more attention.

Red XIII had always been welcome company.

Red eyes watched as the Gi engaged the smaller black feline in battle. Where Nanaki was built along muscular lines for battle, the black cat was built along long lines; speed and surprise more than power although Vincent was sure a strike from the black feline would smart with the muscles bunching under the sleek black fur.

The black one jumped and landed on Nanaki's back in a sudden, no doubt desperate, attempt to get the bigger cat to stop.

Red roared as long, sharp talons dug into his hide.

Instinctively Nanaki started bucking and spinning trying to throw the other cat, now that he was compared to the Gi more closely wasn't actually that much smaller, but which only succeeded in making the darker cat dig in his claws more to hang on.

He threw himself into the pile of rocks Vincent was perched on.

The cough and yowl of pain from the black cat had him letting Red go. Shaking his head and stumbling to his feet, the Kam-t was done. It was already bad enough that he was seeing three of the Green smelling red feline. His Other Self knew the magic, but sifting through the wizard's mind proved easy; hunting was his specialty after all.

The amber eyes of his opponent widened in surprise.

"No!" the gentle masculine voice shouted and leapt as Kam-t apparated to the only place he knew best.  
His room at Seventh Heaven.

Vincent just stared at the empty spots the two felines had been in as Chaos sarcastically clapped in his mind.

* * *

Cloud swore darkly as the loud pop and crash of two….things….in his office tore his concentration off his ledgers. He turned around and saw Red XIII, Nanaki, and what could only b Kam-t.

"Nanaki?"

"Cloud! Stay back!" the Gi growled, watching the panther's every move. Comparing the two they looked as if they had been fighting with Kam-t on the short end of the stick.

Kam-t just yowled plaintively and hissed; the fur along his back raising and lying flat. Cloud was just as surprised by seeing Kam-t as the guttural response from his friend. Harry must have been feeling particularly threatened if Kam-t was prowling around and not Neshshu. Cloud frowned as a thought came to him. What if the boy hadn't had a choice?

"Cloud?"

The exSoldier's attention turned from his thoughts to the seemingly embarrassed Gi in his room.

"Yes?"

"He has a problem."

Cloud just glanced at the panther an the myriad of bleeding cuts to know that Kam-t had a problem.  
"I thought that was apparent," Cloud responded with bland amusement.

The Gi shook his head. Cloud frowned. That was when the exSoldier realized that Nanaki was breathing as shallowly as he could and through his mouth. Curious, the blond turned to look at the cat. He just looked quite mangled before he took a few deep breaths. Blue eyes opened wide-when had they closed?-and stared at Nanaki.

"Heat?" Nanaki desperately whispered.

"Boy," Cloud responded.

"Drugs," they both concluded after a few moments of silence.

Kam-t yowled again.

This wasn't awkward at all.

Cloud's PHS rang with an annoying club riff. Nanaki gave him an annoyed look as his ears flattened into his mane. "Reno coded it," Cloud apologized as he flipped the device open and answered the call.

"'S 'Arry a'ight?" Reno slurred.

Cloud glanced at Nanaki. "He's been drugged or something we think. I'd have to get closer to tell." It was unspoken that he'd rather not get closer without knowing what drug was in Harry's system if it was a drug.

Reno swore. "Th'most common shit a'that place is X."

Nanaki and Cloud winced; not only about the suggested drug Harry was suffering from but the loud smash of breaking glass.

"How long does it last?" Cloud softly asked. Red excused himself from the room to head downstairs to the bar to investigate the shattered glass and the now raised voices.

"Depends on the kid's m'tab'lism. Can I come over?" Reno inquired.

"I guess," Cloud skeptically replied. Reno slurred something that sounded like a thanks but Cloud wasn't too sure with all the background noise on his end and Reno's. He was aware of, however, the loud pop as the yowl turned into a moan of pain. Cloud inhaled again and nearly choked on the smell of smoke and liquor and musk cloying about Harry's person.

Reno couldn't get here soon enough in Cloud's opinion.

It was then that that Power that Harry had dancing and flowing beneath his skin seethed and flared angrily around the teen. Cloud groaned as the mako in his own body resonated with whatever it was. He instinctively covered his head with his hands, violently flinching before realizing his back had hit the wall. Exhaling sharply, Cloud groaned before sliding down the wall and making himself as small as possible. The Power was restless and angry: hunting something but Cloud didn't know what and didn't want to catch its focus.

Thunder roared as the skies opened.

It rained.

Cloud started when his PHS rang. Loudly. Flipping it open, Cloud growled into the receiver, "You need to change your ringtone."

"But I like that song," Reno chortled. The man was obviously drunk.

"Who's your chaperone this outing?" Cloud asked.

"Cissy."

Cloud raised his brow. He didn't think the pretty brunette was still working for the company after the...incident, but there really was only way to leave Shin-Ra. The unspoken but known Body-Bag Clause applied to all the Departments.

Well, all probably with the exception of Reeve's.

Or maybe his with the intricacies and mechanics of the Plate in their department.

"Yo, you there?"

"Just come up stairs."

"Woo! Hear that Cissy! I'm-" and the line went dead. Cloud flipped his PHS closed with a snap. Sometimes he wondered just how drunk Reno got versus how much he acted drunk. Some of it had to be an act. He sighed. Cloud was really starting to hate kids. Kids were drama he didn't need quite yet.

He needed a long distance delivery.

Harry moaned and rolled over.

A creak in the hall sent Cloud's nerves on high alert and he wasn't surprised when his well oiled door swung open to let in the infamous redheaded Turk. Said Turk was frowning darkly. "I thought you said you were gonna fix tha' floorboard."

Cloud smirked.

Reno scowled. He walked over to the bed and placed his hand on Harry's head. The youth only flinched and moaned before tossing and rolling over; curling in on himself with a groan. "Well, th' most popular thing there is X. His actions fit the bill."

"Aren't X targets more...coherent?" Cloud asked.

Reno shrugged. "Depends on the drink they're slipped in. Me'n'Arry got pretty fucked before he realized somethin' was wrong."

Cloud smiled and elbowed the Turk. "How does the Turk feel to be upped by a mere mortal?"

Reno gave Cloud a dirty look. "Har, har, har."

They both glanced back at Harry. The unspoken question of how they were supposed to fix the kid hung in the air. How does one cure another of an over sensitivity to outside stimuli?

"I don't suppose we could jerk it outta his system?" Reno asked after a minute. The seriousness of the situation underlined the joke: Reno wasn't entirely joking.

Cloud was incredulous. "He's a _minor_!"

"E's wha, Fifteen?" Reno slurred with a smile and a faraway look in his eyes. "Tha's practic'ly legal."

Cloud spluttered. Reno was probably younger, but life under the Plate was hard. But Harry didn't have to go through that. The blond narrowed his eyes. "I'm not doing it and neither are you," Cloud nearly hissed.

Reno held up his hands in surrender.

They both glanced at Harry when the youth went still. Glancing at each other, Reno, since he had measure the dark haired youth's temperature before, went over and laid his hand on the kid's forehead again.

"S'coming down."

Cloud nodded.

"Ya know," Reno said into the silence some time later. "I had me a few drinks."

Cloud just arched his brow.

Reno smiled in a most inviting way.

Cloud got up. "I have a new add-on to Fenrir. Wanna see?"

Reno's smile grew. "I'd love to."

* * *

Harry's mind wasn't his own; something that made the Gryffindor's skin crawl. And that wasn't even the most disturbing part. The wizard didn't know if it-whatever _it_ was-was pleasure till it was pain or pained him to the point of pleasure. All that he could pick out from the swirling colours that were his thoughts was one simple, horribly simple, sentence:

_My drink shouldn't have fizzed_.

Harry, or was he Kam-t? Neshshu?, bit back another moan as his head swam. The sheets, plain cotton that they were, seemed the finest silks to his overtly sensitized skin.

A Potion gone oh so wrong.

A cold, damp hand touched his forehead and Harry flinched; pained at the temperature difference, pleasured at the touch.

Words.

Murmuring.

More than one person?

"...jerk it out of his system..."

"He's a minor!"

"E's wha, Fifteen?" One voice slurred. "Tha's practic'ly legal."

"I'm not doing it and neither are you," the other voice declared. Demanded. Spoke as law.

Harry shuddered as the Power in the voice washed over his own. There was magic those words; magic woven into the spoken word so there would be no disobeying the command. Clever. He should try that sometime at DA meetings.

...Or Quidditch games.

The words and murmuring continued, magic occasionally washing over his person when one didn't like the other. It was ecstasy. It was the cruciatus.

Harry couldn't take it anymore.

He fell into his magic once more, safe in the knowledge that it would at least protect him from whatever was happening.

* * *

Green eyes glared unhappily at the rain soaked landscape.

He did _not_ care for the rain. Rain ruined his hair. Made it harder to use his weapons.

The Rain was _mean_.

When the steeple came into view in the gloom, he was happy that he had finally reached his destination. Now all he had to do was wait.

Wait for Brother.

Wait for _him_.

When the Storm Child was fine, Brother would realize he was here; where he was. He had to already _know_. They were _brothers_. The Storm Child was important though, so he could understand Brother not knowing he was here immediately. That's what the Wolf said. He sneered. Dog really; that thing was too friendly with _everything_. Coyote, perhaps? They could cross breed with everything. Dogs, wolves, chickens...

Coyote then.

Wonder if Brother would figure it out?

Green eyes looked towards the pool at the end of the aisle, as serene and calm as it had always been. Off to one side was an obvious homey place...with a fire pit.

Win!

Propping his bike where it was, the figure hurried down the aisle; stripping as he went. Seeing a rack already fashioned, he hung his clothes and started the wood in the hearth with a thought; the magic tingling and warming his hands as it passed through his hand. Sighing in contentment, he just basked in the warmth for a while finally just happy to _be_ now that he wasn't sodden wet. When his skin got to the point it was flushed and crispy it was so dry, his stomach rumbled. Checking his clothes, they still weren't dry, he shrugged and started sniffing around.

There had to be food somewhere.

* * *

In a tank in a mountain there was a body. This wasn't anything new to Shin-Ra; they had been perfecting the art of human experimentation for over fifty years. There were the standard mako tanks in the corner. There were the computer consoles. There was the operating table, the machine that recorded body functions when on the table, the machine that recorded them when the subject was in the tank. There was a vicious looking machine in the corner that's purpose looked nefarious but couldn't be determined without its memory chip. What was different however, was the patch and splash put together feel of the lab, as if it weren't supposed to exist; the old machines with the new ones, the juxtaposition of rigged machines with Shin-Ra brand new ones. The thing was, it wasn't.

Even, deep breaths pulled mako in and out of the Subject's lungs; delivering all its body would ever need as computers replayed the history of the Wutai war.

* * *

Yuffie sneezed as she made her way into Seventh Heaven, strange materia in hand. The damn thing still wouldn't show her what it was. To anyone, she was carrying around a pretty grey and white marble...that was the size of a materia.

Dammit.

Swearing as she sneezed again-at least Wutai had _warm_ rain-Yuffie opened the back door and nearly screamed as she came face to face with a big, red, furry face.

With lots of teeth.

"Hello, Yuffie," the Gi greeted her.

"Leviathan! Red! Don't _do_ that!" the girl whined. Shiva, did she just lose, like, twenty years off her life!

"What brings you around, if you don't mind me asking?" the warrior asked the ninja.

"I found this near the Grasslands," she pulled the 'dead' materia out of her satchel and held it out for Red to sniff. "I haven't been able to figure out what it does."

Nanaki lifted his eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Yuffie pouted. "I was hoping Cloud would be able to tell me, since, yanno, if anything went wrong with it he'd have the best chance at surviving a botched Summons."

"If that's what it is," Red said, taking a drink of something.

"Are there eats about?" Yuffie inquired as she headed towards a cupboard.

"I'm not sure, but Tifa should be back soon for those," he directed with a flick of his head.

'Those' were shepherd's pies; fresh from the oven if the steam off of them was anything to go by. Shepherd's pie sounded good, but Yuffie was after something a little more sweet, and after the sixth cupboard, dammit but it had been moved again, Yuffie procured a rather interesting box. Giggling evilly, the Wutaian ninaj princess pranced over to the table and plopped in a chair with a theatrical elegance a thespian would be proud of. Several quick twists and turns later had the lid being opened and the scent of heaven started to fill the air.

Nanaki looked up. "Isn't that Tifa's chocolate stash?"

"I found it fair and square!"

Nanaki just shook his head. It wasn't going to be him being thrown through walls when Tifa found out she had no chocolate. From what he understood, Cloud literally went to the ends of Gaia and back to get the stuff. Special ordered from secret chocolatiers she always said. Family recipes. Rare ingredients.

Nanaki couldn't understand why human women like it so much. It didn't smell all that appealing and it tasted okay.

Reno came to the kitchen entrance and Nanaki quickly shook his head. Warned, Reno darted into the front, grabbing Cloud and dragging him with him. Yuffie turned, curious as to why the beads in his mane and his headdress jingled and chimed.

"Itch." It could have been.

She made a face and went back to eating the chocolate as fast as she could while savouring it.

He was glad he wasn't a monster roaming Midgar: he didn't feel like a giant shuriken ending his life.

* * *

Harry tossed and turned in a fitful sleep. His magic roiled and writhed, and nothing he could do could calm it down. _Motion_, it whispered. _EventsTimehappenings_.Harry didn't understand, but he was getting cold again, and he could feel heat nearby. He opened his eyes to see large, dilated hazel eyes inches from his face.

"Your new," she said with a slight, barely there accent. "But why are you in Cloud's room? Leviathan, areyouhislovetoy?"

"Huh?" Harry wheezed.

"Lover?"

"No," Harry said when his mind actually processed the fast speech. That's when he heard it, the Song. He knew it was close, probably secreted on this crazy girl's person. Then he saw it: grey and white like a giant cat's eye marble with tiny white flecks here and there. "Can I see that?"

"Sure!" she proffered the ball with little thought.

Harry grabbed it and was enveloped by blessed heat and phoenix song. A sound like indignation come from the other side, but he didn't care. He was finally warm. Laying down, Harry ignored the world in favour of his soft cotton sheets and a lullaby sung by a phoenix.

_Vuurvliegje_, the Green whispered into his mind. _Storm Child. Storm and hail. Fire and Ice. Harmony and Melody-sing together._

_Tune._

_Destiny._

Harry frowned.

The Green was Mean.

* * *

_posted 27August2011_


End file.
